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Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

Apologize
1. Apologize - You hadn't considered the fine line between taking responsibility for your actions and taking responsibility for the actions of others. That doesn't just include Lachlaen, but Ika as well. You swallow your pride and try to diffuse the situation. "...You're right. I shouldn't have gone for your wand like that," you say. "But what should we do now?"

Ika looks at you a bit resentfully before turning away and shaking her head. "...We'll have to go back into town, zooner or later," she says. "If there'z a witch hunt on, the coven won't help uz, not here."

"Why not?" you ask.

Ika slaps herself in the forehead as she turns back around to face you, anguish visible on her brow. "There'z only four of uz - and Lythrefang izn't in the buzinezz of taking over entire townz anyway... Do you realize how many we'd have to kill?"

"That's not what I meant!" you clarify. "I mean, if we have to run, can't the coven help us escape to somewhere safe?"

"They'd help me find zomewhere zafe! You aren't one of uz!" she spits, poking a finger up at your chest. Her fury quickly dissipates however to something much more crestfallen. "...Corrinth iz trying zo hard to keep your zecretz zafe," she explains. "I don't want to zee you go off on your own, either; you'd probably juzt end up getting hunted down by witch-baggerz, or maybe fall under the 'care' of zome zizter who'z ztronger then uz," she huffs.

You understand exactly what she means. To arrive in a town where you're stronger than the coven's local leader who, out of pride or some twisted sense of concern, refuses to call for backup by someone more skilled to deal with you is an incredibly fortuitous turn of events. To be hunted down and burned like Rigatte, or to be tortured and compelled into cultish devotion to Syrith, feels like death either way.

Ika looks deeply remorseful, and you feel even sorrier than you did for causing this whole mess in the first place, because if you were to die, then she, unlike Corrinth, wouldn't just be mourning the loss of a hexblood on behalf of the coven. She'd mourn you as a friend. And worse yet, your arrival into her simple life would spell the end of her daily routine, and the uprooting of everything she knew.

"Ika, I'm sorry," you say, having nothing else at the moment. "I really hope it'll work out."

---
About two hours later, the two of you emerge from the woods, having spent the time discussing different towns in the area where you might head to if things go poorly in the near future. Ika, at first distraught, calms down as there doesn't appear to be any commotion from the town. As you would quickly realize, she had also been waiting for a warning to come by crow - and no news, it turns out, is good news.

"So what now?" you ask.

Ika shoots you a look. You already know what she's thinking: she needs a drink.

1. Split Up - You both could use a break from each other. You decide to head to the market while Ika goes back to the tavern.

2. Back to the Tavern - You're growing annoyed with how much your life seems to revolve around Iona's tavern, but this time, you have some important things to talk about.

3. Invite - You ask Ika to come with you to the market so that you can make up for the last few hours. She immediately realizes that something better than grog is in her future.
 
Invite
3. Invite - You ask Ika to come with you to the market so that you can make up for the last few hours. She immediately realizes that something better than grog is in her future.

"Whatever you want, if I can afford it," you assure her.

Ika grins with a mouth full of jagged fangs. "That'll do nicely," she says.

The two of you walk back the way you had gone earlier in the day and arrive at the market. Things seem calm as usual in the town; the merchants are at their stalls or otherwise seated amidst their wares on the ground, smoking on pipes and mostly talking with each other, being colleagues who see each other every day. A scant few customers - villagers who happen to be away from their daily tasks or employment, search for goods to purchase without much insistence from the merchants. One stall, with a distinctly rotten smell about it, you suspect (correctly) belongs to Ika, and you confirm it by catching sight of a few scraps of fish, mostly heads and tails, behind the counter in a bucket that's buzzing with flies. It makes your stomach churn a bit, but you press on, wanting to retain the fragile friendship you have with the goblin.

Near the end of the market row is a cart with locking cabinets on each side, prominently decorated with a painted image of a wine carafe with an enticingly-rich red coloration. A dwarven man leans against the cart, his eyes locked on you both from far away, well before you're within earshot. You don't have to guess at what his concern is; Iona has already made it clear that Ika would drink turpentine if it were left unattended, and so she probably isn't well-liked by a vendor who prefers to be paid for his product.

"Hail to yeh," he gruffly greets as you shuffle up to his stand. "You new around here? I haven't seen yer face, so I hope Ika's not tricked yeh into spending yer coin on getting her drunk because I can promise yeh, traveler, she ain't payin' you back."

"My name is Agranne, I moved to town three weeks ago" you reply. "...And I'm not spotting her; this is a gift."

The dwarf grunts in amusement. "I should've known. Yeh dress like that barmaid's girl, Corrinth. Yeh know her?"

"I do," you reply, although you're not really enjoying the direction of the conversation. Before you can steer it toward learning the dwarf's name and making your purchase, he makes an observation.

"She comes by every week and buys about half my stock. I always thought she was resupplyin' the tavern on behalf o' her mother, but I wouldn't be surprised if that little monster's downin' the lot of it," he says affectionately. "Haven't seen Corrinth these past few weeks, though, have yeh?"

You shake your head. "I think she was sent to Zuklanar to repay a debt for the tavern," you reply, using an excuse that Corrinth had instructed you to use while she was away. "I'm sure she'll be back to feeding the monster soon, though," you add, jokingly. You glance over to Ika, who seems to be shifting around uncomfortably in anticipation of getting the promised drink. "I've got seven copper pieces. What can that get her?"

The dwarf chuckles. "She already knows what I've got," he says. "What d'yeh want, Ika?"

"Rum! Copper kettle, p-pleaze!" she says, practically bouncing up and down.

You watch as the dwarf takes out a key, unlocks one of the cart's cabinets, and pulls out a hefty bottle of a very dark rum. He holds out his hand to you, and you pull out your coin purse and empty the contents into his hand. He nods, and drops the coins into a slot on a container anchored near the front of the cart - three weeks of work, gone. A moment later, he places the bottle into Ika's trembling hands, and you watch the goblin tap her feet in place a number of times before rushing away into the shade of a nearby tree, gnawing the cork out of the bottle with her teeth, and guzzling the contents of the bottle in a single go.

As you stand and stare wide-eyed at the display, the dwarf laughs at you.

1. Humor - Eventually, the absurdity breaks through to you, and you join him in a laugh at your own expense.

2. Irritation - You're not sure whether you should be more annoyed with Ika and her wastefulness, or the merchant and his arrogance.
 
Humor
1. Humor - Eventually, the absurdity breaks through to you, and you join him in a laugh at your own expense.

You turn away from Ika and face the merchant, the dwarven man still chuckling a bit at the events that just transpired. Your laughter, at first quiet and self-effacing, slowly rises to an unnerving timbre.

You've been through a lot, lately.

The dwarf stops laughing. Other merchants pause in their conversations to notice the unpleasant cackle coming from that dark, inner self you possess. You must have cracked the door open this morning when you threw those witnesses to the ground, because you're thinking in violent terms that haven't crossed your mind since Corrinth tested you, three weeks ago. But then, as quickly as it surfaces, it retreats back into the hole it's carved in your soul, leaving nothing but bitterness in its wake.

You let out a sigh, letting go of as much anger as you can. You told Ika you would buy her whatever she wanted, if you could afford it. You just... hoped... she wouldn't clean you out like this. But the merchant seems to have known this would happen and yet he went along with it. Why? Doesn't he realize that you probably would have been a repeat customer if he had shown a bit more concern for you?

"Good job, you pulled a fast one on me. ...I never got your name, sir," you say, surprising even yourself with the eerie calm underpinning each word. You aren't even smiling.

The dwarf takes a half step backwards. "Don't get yerself all rankled, now. It's Warrik, and I'm tryin' to make some scrap to feed m'self and the kids" he says. "But yeh learned yerself an important lesson didn't yah? Set a budget next time."

You look back to Ika, who's finished the bottle and is now lying on her back in the grass, breathing heavily and gasping for air. Another surge of anger, another suppressed thought. You've heard that many goblins can't help their rampant thirst for alcohol; you can't fault her for this. But you do wonder whether she could have gotten a better value with a less expensive spirit.

Perhaps she knows exactly how to stretch money as far as it can go when it comes to liquor - that seems like something she would know. You walk over and sit under the tree with her, watching as she tries to gather herself amidst dizziness, sickness, contentedness, and something else. Maybe she feels regret for spending all your money?

You hope she does.

1. Scheme - You've had enough of playing nice. An idea crosses your mind that would make you feel better about everything that just happened. "Ika," you say, "...I want to rob Warrik's liquor cart, later tonight. You get the drinks, I get the money. What do you think?"

2. Assist - Maybe she can walk, maybe she can't - she'll probably be here for a while. Maybe it would be a bit more dignified for her to rest up in her home. "...Do I need to carry you back to your house, Ika?" you ask, reluctantly.
 
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