Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

[dikdik]

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[joshuadim]

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[Damian0358]

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[K0mori]

The vote is tied - DEALER'S CHOICE:

3. Take Embryx's Side - There's still a long way to go before you reach the big city, and Nytha's insistence on litigating this issue now, and not after everyone is safe, is concerning. You could probably sort this out if you're willing to forgive Embryx.

As you look over at the drow, she looks back at you, pathetically. A smirk crosses your lips as if to say, you owe me for this. "...Nytha, why don't you just let this go?" you ask, a bit of faux-exasperation tinging your voice. "Today's been a hard day on all of us, and we've got a lot more riding to do tomorrow. Can we at least wait until we reach Mardenaal before we start tearing each other down?"

The elf stares at you in shock. "...What? Are you kidding me, Agranne? She lied her ass off about you, and you didn't even ask for an apology!"

You shrug. "I don't need one."

"...I'm truly sorry, Nytha," Embryx says again, sounding not-quite genuine...

Which only enrages Nytha further. "Shut up!"

You stifle your smirk from growing into a wider grin, realizing that your choice to help Embryx here was motivated less by any pragmatic concern and more by your desire to feed the dark inside. You're really enjoying this theater. Meanwhile, Corrinth, equally amused - and in no small part at your own antics - is nonetheless desiring peace within her crumbling circle, and finally speaks up: "Agranne's right. We need to keep it together if we're going to stay out of trouble," she says as she peels and slices an apple in her hands. "You two can hash this out after we've linked up with the circle of Mardenaal."

Nytha look at each of the three of you with equal parts hurt and disgust. Then, huffing, she straightens her posture and takes the gracious way out: "...I see I'm over-reacting. I'm sorry, all of you," she says flatly.

---
​

After an hour of uneasy rest, the four of you mount your horses and set off down the road again. This time, you only ride for half an hour before encountering a point of interest - a large carriage hitched to some oxen along the side of the road near the river. The apparent owner, or perhaps merely the driver, is hard at work trying to repair one of the wheels as a mercenary guard stands watch.

"Hey, you!" he calls out to the four of you, drawing his sword immediately without waiting for a response. "Keep your distance; I won't hesitate to put you all in the dirt if you mean us harm!"

For some unknown reason, the man's words really irritate you. You feel a chill run down your spine as you glance back and forth at the others, considering whether now would be a good time for some "fun," to lighten the mood.

0. Do As He Says - You want no trouble with these men and pull hard off the roadway on the opposite side, trying to pass them without any issue.

1. Rob the Carriage - Each of you still has a little bit of magic left, having regained some strength since leaving Tashlaan. It would be a simple matter to trick these men into giving up whatever it is they're transporting. In fact, Corrinth could probably do it alone.

2. Attack the Carriage - You see two of them, and there's four of you. Better yet, there are no witnesses.

 

[joshuadim]

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[hardcore.munchkin]

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[Breadman]

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[turtwigwins]

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[Damian0358]

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[bat_hacker]

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[K0mori]

1. Rob the Carriage - Each of you still has a little bit of magic left, having regained some strength since leaving Tashlaan. It would be a simple matter to trick these men into giving up whatever it is they're transporting. In fact, Corrinth could probably do it alone.

You begin to slow your horse, falling back so that Embryx and Corrinth can come up beside you. You give them a sly smile, and watch as they begin to suspect your thinking. Corrinth seems surprised, but nonetheless willing, while Embryx seems eager. You figure, out of the four of you, she has the most magic still available to her. "...I don't like the way that man just spoke to us," you say.

Nytha now realizes the conspiracy afoot and slows down ahead of you so that she can listen in. "So what are you going to do about it?" Corrinth asks, skeptically. She seems to be expecting you to back down in the case that the circle doesn't join you in killing a random innocent, but you shake your head - that wasn't your intent at all. You make this clear with a single question of your own.

"Can you make that guardsman lose his temper? I'd like to speak to him alone."

Corrinth nods in fascination. "Okay, Agranne. Let's see what you're cooking up, then. Embryx?"

"On it," Embryx replies, taking her wand out and, using Corrinth herself as a barrier to hide behind, looks back to the lone guardsman on the road as she turns and twists the implement, a wisp of shadowy smoke arising...

Moments later, the guardsman turns around to the driver. "Will you hurry the fuck up!?" he shouts, catching the older man off guard.

"What's gotten into you?" the driver replies. "You do your job, and I'll do mine."

The mercenary kicks a few rocks across the lonely road and wheels around, brandishing his sword at the driver. "I do my job. Every time, I do my job! It's you who's always breaking the damned carriage and holding us up from our payday!"

"Just calm down, will you?" the driver says, standing up. "You're acting crazy, Halton!"

The swordsman begins to circle around the back of the carriage, menacing the driver the whole way. "I'm tired of these roads, Ralpa. I'm tired of walking every damned place instead of being on a horse, like those women back there!" he yells, pointing at you without turning his head. "I'm tired of baking out here in the sun while you fix what you broke!"

The driver - Ralpa, apparently - jumps to his feet and moves toward the front of the train of oxen. "Halton! Halton, please! This is not the time for- I pay you, you know!"

You watch as the mercenary takes a slash at Ralpa, who lets out a pathetic yelp and breaks into a sprint into the woods. Halton bellows out a battle cry, but doesn't follow. Instead, he just stands there, huffing and seething as Embryx reigns in her magic. A moment later, the door to the carriage bursts open as an old woman in stunning dress and jewelry - a noblewoman, possibly, yells at her guard. "You vile man, look what you've done now!"

"My lady, I-" he begins to reply, but is cut off.

"You simpleton! Do you know how to fix this wagon? Can you drive it yourself?"

You take your cue to dismount from your horse, and the circle watches as you approach. Not very long ago, confronting a man-at-arms or a noblewoman would have terrified you, but that deep pit in your heart is making you hungry for the conflict - hungry for fear and misery. In the near future, you might ponder your actions and feel disgust for what's become of you, but it will be difficult to remember where you came from until you've had a good night's rest.

As you approach, the guardsman takes note of you, but the old woman berating him doesn't look over her shoulder. You reach up your hand and summon some of that strength you kept this morning, and with a quick strike, your magic knocks the old biddy unconscious. She crumples back into the carriage, leaving the swordsman alone with you. His eyes trace back to where you came from, and he sees the other three witches watching in silence, and finally realizes what's actually happened.

"When she awakens," you say, your own twisted smile finally free to adorn your face, "what do you think she'll say?"

"She- I-" Halton stammers. His mind reels, suddenly aware that when the noblewoman awakens, she'll be likely to tell the world that her guardsman flew into a rage, attacked her driver, and then knocked her out so violently that she can't even recall the final moments. "...Gods...! You- I'm going to kill you. I'm going to..."

His arm is locked at his side, his feet planted to the road, unable to move. You glance over your shoulder and are unsurprised to find Corrinth's arm extended towards the two of you, her wand fizzling with a dark energy. You turn back, and tip your head to the side with a snicker, watching him squirm. "I have a different idea," you tell him.

1. Your Money, Not Your Life - "I want everything of value in this carriage. In exchange, nobody else gets hurt."

2. Join Us - "I could get you a horse, Halton. You just let me have whatever the old crone brought with her, and I'll make sure you get your cut and then some."

 

[joshuadim]

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[Infab]

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[hardcore.munchkin]

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[asphodelus]

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[dikdik]

 

[Breadman]

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[turtwigwins]

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[K0mori]

2. Join Us - "I could get you a horse, Halton. You just let me have whatever the old crone brought with her, and I'll make sure you get your cut and then some."

The mercenary struggles a while longer, fruitlessly, before finally acknowledging he has no other option but to accept your robbery of the old noblewoman. "...Okay, you win. I can't move, so just take what you want and go. I don't want anything to do with you lot," he says.

You ignore him as you mount the carriage and enter the small cabin in which the bejeweled old hag was riding. It isn't long until you find an iron strongbox of fine quality and toss it down to the ground. Nytha saunters over, as she's the only one of the four of you with enough magic left to crack the lock, like you did to Warrik's cart, two nights ago.

Things are moving fast in your world.

With a shadowy blast from her wand, the lock shatters and the box opens to reveal a small, black obelisk with beautifully-carved, intricate, inlaid runes from some ancient language. You and Embryx are too busy staring at the strange artifact to even notice the sack of diamonds alongside it - a staggering payment for delivering... whatever this is, so Nytha picks that up and shows it to Halton.

"...This thing you were guarding seems to have been worth quite a lot to someone. Where was it going?" Nytha asks.

"Tell no lies," Corrinth commands, still enacting her will on him.

He shudders before spitting it out: "the baroness hired Ralpa who hired me and they said I would be the only guard because they didn't want to raise suspicions and that we would go to the Cathedral of Zephimus in Varsana-"

Corrinth's pneuma is utterly exhausted, however, as as she nearly passes out from the exertion of casting her hexes. Halton gasps for air and coughs painfully at the exercise. "Fucking... hells..." he struggles.

"You were taking this object to the capital of Zuklanar?" you question.

Halton looks at you tiredly. "I was just taking the baroness to Zuklanar. I don't know anything about any 'object!' It's not my job to know." He takes another deep breath. "I really don't know what any of this is about. ...Can I please just go?"

You and the other witches look at each other, feeling a sense of concern. This is major. With the amount of money involved, whoever wanted this thing is going to notice that it's gone. On the other hand, it's wanted by the church, so maybe this would be a major coup for the coven to disrupt. Zephimus is the God of Creation and Great Turmoil, and you know from your upbringing that his followers are the sort who believe in prophesy and doom, often speaking of rapture and rebirth. Off in Varsana, they have a positively gargantuan cathedral, the spire of which reaches into the sky like a sickeningly bold gesture - defying gravity.

"Let's just kill him and get out of here!" Embryx huffs. "There's going to be questions about where this thing went, so we might as well cut off the only one who can tell the tale and get our asses to safety as soon as we can."

The mercenary, now realizing his predicament as the lone witness of the four witches, changes his tune suddenly. "N-no no no! Wait. I'll go with you, and I'll work for you. Please, just don't kill me, they didn't tell me I'd have to fight witches. I'm not a hunter, you know? I just wanted to keep bandits away..." He suddenly grabs on to his helmet and pulls, revealing himself to be a human of around 25 years, with a strong jawline and shaggy brown hair.

You pick up the artifact and feel a sudden rush that causes you to gasp, and at once the exhaustion of your pneuma is alleviated. The witches see your reaction and gather round, each of them taking a turn of holding the artifact and experiencing rejuvenation. Corrinth lets out a devilish laugh. "What a find, Agranne!" she lauds. "...The treasure, I mean, not the man. I'm sure the Mardenaal circle will know what to do with both of them. Better yet, we'll be due some kind of reward!"

Despite her enthusiasm,you immediately recognize the incredible danger of leaving this strange artifact in the hands of someone like Corrinth (while also conveniently ignoring the threat that you yourself pose to the world). It could be a temporary enchantment, or it might be a limitless font of magical power to draw from - there is simply no way to tell at this time, so you insist on keeping it to yourself as you mount your horse and Halton jogs up beside you.

"As for you, we'll get you a horse, like I promised. We'll just have to find one, first," you say to him as the five of you set off. "...And as long as you keep your end of the bargain, I'll keep mine. We don't have to kill each other, you know," you add, quietly.

He stays silent.

1. Admire - As always, anymore, you find yourself in another surreal situation. Halton is handsome - strikingly so. You wouldn't admit this to the rest of the circle, but if you weren't in the midst of an ongoing struggle for survival and obscurity, you could see yourself chasing boys your own age who might grow up into a man like him.

2. Disregard - Now, it seems, you've gained a servant, and a surprisingly handsome one at that. You humor yourself by keeping an eye on the other witches in the circle, to see if any of them steal glances at him as he walks along beside you. Sure enough, you catch Embryx in the act and have a snicker at her expense... You never really understood the appeal of men.

 

[hardcore.munchkin]

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[Breadman]

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[Infab]

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[Damian0358]

0. Focus - You concentrate on keeping your end of the bargain, keeping your eye on what's important at this moment. Thoughts like the ones you might be having only serve to distract from not only that, but your ambitions in general. There's no appeal to these fading thoughts at all.

 

[joshuadim]

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