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Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

Pragmatism
2. Pragmatism - "If I were rich," you answer, "I'd want to keep myself safe. Keeping it all in my pockets doesn't make me any safer... Sometimes it's better to have friends."

"Smart," Corrinth replies indifferently as she takes a bite of apple. Again, she speaks with her mouth full, as if her thoughts just escape her without a care: "but you would keep some of it after you're done spreading it around, same as me, I'd bet. I take care of my friends, and my sisters even moreso."

She gives you a sly smile, and you realize she's trying to draw you in with the promise of money. Annoyed, you change the subject, trying to take your mind off your sore feet. "You said you'd tell me about magic," you remind her.

"Sure," she replies. "What do you want to know?"

You think back over the prior two days and think about the strange things the driver told you, as well as the sudden change in Corrinth's attitude after you broke free from her control. "Can you explain to me what a hexblood is?"

Corrinth nods, and focuses hard for a moment to make sure that her explanation is succinct. "A hexblood is a sorcerer who can cast dark magic. It's rare enough just to be a witch - I mean, look... I've heard it's around one in every fifty women, and one in every thousand men who can use dark magic at all. And sorcerers - the normal type, I mean, are already so rare that there's probably less than a hundred in the world that we know of."

"And how is a sorcerer different from a mage, or a witch?" You cut in.

She seems surprised and amused by the question, but shakes it off and continues: "Normally, people can't cast magic unless they have an implement, like a wand or a staff, that can help them conduct it along. It's like a painter with their paintbrush. It takes practice to learn the tool at the same time you learn the medium. But then some people are really, really lucky, and they can just cast magic at will."

She quickly eats her last piece of apple and wipes her mouth on her sleeve. "So... Imagine how rare it is for someone to be a sorcerer with dark magic. You- you might be the only one right now."

The only one...? You feel a bit dizzy. "But... how does being a sorcerer help me?"

Corrinth snorts with a laugh and quickly replies, "you wouldn't have escaped my spell without magic coursing through your veins. For the rest of us, it comes from the outside, but you have it on the inside. And as long as you still have your pneuma, no one can stop you from using it."

"Okay, and that's another thing," you reply, exasperated. "The driver mentioned I had a 'pneuma like a fountain.' What does that even mean?"

"Pneuma is how much magic you can cast before you have to rest," she explains. "She said she saw you kill a man from ten feet away by ripping his soul clean out of his body. That's... not exactly easy to do," she adds with a laugh as you look on, mortified. "But it's not just that you did it, it's that you had the energy to run away afterwards. I could probably do it under the perfect conditions, but afterwards? I'd collapse, like I just spent the whole day sprinting. You didn't."

"Is that why she poisoned me?" you ask, your eyes wide.

Corrinth nods, and you feel sick to your stomach. Even the witches of Lythrefang think you're dangerous.

---
As the sun crosses the highest point in the sky and starts to sink toward the horizon, you and Corrinth introduce yourselves on a more personal level. She hears of your impoverished upbringing and of your brothers and sisters in Zuklanar, although you find yourself too saddened to speak much of Rigatte. Corrinth tells you of her own upbringing as a barmaid's daughter.

After hours of walking, and bits and pieces of idle conversation with your new "friend," you reach the town of Tashlaan. In the twilight of the evening, you can see the thatched roofs between the trees, and it reminds you a bit of your own village, back in Zuklanar. You feel a pang of homesickness as you follow a path to an inn in the middle of the town.

Corrinth pays the innkeeper for a room and returns to give you the key. "I'll come back in the morning with some clothes for you to wear, after the shop opens. What would you like, anyway?"

1. Humble clothes - "I just want to blend in," you reply. "I'll probably just be someone's housemaid until I get enough money to travel." You don't plan on settling down permanently, but you don't want to be reckless by leaving too soon.

2. Work clothes - "I want something that can hold up if I need to work in someone's field. Boots would be good," you tell her. You don't want her to know you're going to leave immediately.

3. Witchy clothes - As much as you hate to admit it, you don't mind Corrinth's company now that you've spent some time with her. While you're not planning to stay forever, you also have nowhere else to go, and at least she'll try to keep you hidden from the rest of the coven while you stay here. "I don't care, just pick whatever," you reply.
 
Witchy Clothes
The vote is tied - DEALER'S CHOICE:

3. Witchy clothes - As much as you hate to admit it, you don't mind Corrinth's company now that you've spent some time with her. While you're not planning to stay forever, you also have nowhere else to go, and at least she'll try to keep you hidden from the rest of the coven while you stay here. "I don't care, just pick whatever," you reply.

Corrinth pauses a moment, a flicker of delight dancing across her eyes that gives you pause. "Okay, no problem. I'll see you tomorrow!" she says.

"Uhm... Yeah, thanks," you reply as she quickly retreats into the night. Closing and locking the door, you turn to your small inn room, little more than four walls around a straw mattress, and sigh. The last sleep you got was short and unpleasant, so you hope for something a bit gentler tonight as you shed your towel and lie down.

Your feet ache so much and are so swollen that you cry. Part of you wonders whether Corrinth didn't offer to get you medicine because she wants you stranded here, or because you wouldn't have trusted it anyway.

Eventually, you find a position in which the pain dulls and you find comfort, and then slip off into sleep's embrace.

You have a short, gentle dream. Finding yourself in the same black pool that swallowed your previous dream, you look around in search of the shadowy, uncertain figure which approached you before. This time, you understand the illusion of it all, and aren't preoccupied with feelings of fear and loss; this shadow only covers your inner world, after all.

You see her, walking toward you slowly, as before, but as you strain to make sense of her appearance, it's still beyond your grasp. But, suddenly, another figure appears: a more familiar one. She skates on the surface of the inky pool without sinking, just like the first, and circles around you in curiosity and reverence. She reaches out, as if to take your hand, but as you do the same, she gives you something instead. You look down and find half of an apple resting in your palm.

You catch a glimpse of Corrinth's face, as clear as a sunny day in winter.

You awaken in your room at the inn and see daylight through the cracks, although you doubt the sun has been up for long. Some time passes before you even consider the meaning of your recurring dreams. But once you do, you feel a sense of unease gnawing at you, as you're increasingly convinced that Syrith is haunting you in your sleep... As if she wasn't satisfied enough with your fluttering ever-closer to her coven's web during the daylight hours. You sigh and resign yourself to the entire disaster, thankful at least that you won't need to hurt anyone else for a while.

There's a knock at the door, and you cover yourself up one last time with the filthy towel before opening the door up for Corrinth.

"Hi!" she says, holding out a bundle of canvas tied with twine. As you take it from her, you notice that she's wearing two hats - a pointed leather one with a wide brim on her head, and a smaller, flatter hat on her back, hanging by a string around her neck. As soon as her hands are free, she grabs the pointed hat and offers it to you as well. You're a bit flabbergasted as you undo the bundle and realize how dark everything is inside; given how Lachlaen was immediately put off by your black woolen clothes, you had expected something more like what he was wearing. Instead, it seems as if Corrinth picked from her own wardrobe, and a moment later she very nearly confirms it.

"I hope you don't mind: some of these items are secondhand. All the undergarments are new, though, and so's the hat."

The hat is so unusual that you almost decline it outright, until you feel it in your hands and realize that it's lined with a ring of velvet inside. You've heard of this fabric before, but as far as you knew it was the sort of pointless luxury that only the merchants and nobles would bother with. "It's soft," you blurt out, your eyes wide.

"I figured you'd want something good for all seasons," Corrinth says. "Water just rolls right off it, so it'll keep you nice and dry."

The clothing, likewise, is well-made, with multiple types of fabrics, carefully-stitched hems and buttonholes, and plenty of details like belt loops and buttoned pockets. Even in its worn state, you recognize them as being better than any clothes you've ever worn. You suppose Corrinth has been dressing this well the whole time, as well, but you failed to notice because you're accustomed to people dressing better than you. You want to ask her what it all cost, and why she would be so generous, but you have a feeling she would just tell you again how she takes care of her "friends."

It's a bittersweet feeling. You could have really used all this stuff when you lived at home, but you weren't special back then. You remind yourself that Corrinth is still trying to recruit you into a cult, and you temper your enthusiasm. Still, to your surprise, you find that Corrinth even has a pair of boots waiting for you, which she pulls out of her bag. They may not be rugged, work-ready things that you could march to Estfang in, but they'll hold up well for many miles if you decide to sneak away.

"I feel like I need to bathe before I can wear this," you admit, feeling disgusted with the condition in which you slept, and perhaps feeling a bit unworthy of such a gift. "Is there a place where I could..."

Corrinth nods. "I'll get you some rags. We can get some water from the well and you can clean up out beyond the trees."

---
Fully dressed and clean for the first time since your plunge into the Turus River, you wonder what comes next. There's got to be some work in this town.

1. Explore - You decide your best course of action is to take a look around and get a better understanding of the community. It could also help you cook up a good story about who you are and where you came from, and even more importantly, why you're here.

2. Go to the tavern - Just about every small village has a tavern where locals meet, drink, and swap stories. Tashlaan's happens to be managed by Corrinth's mother. You decide to head over there and introduce yourself, and see where the locals might need you.
 
Go to the Tavern
2. Go to the tavern - Just about every small village has a tavern where locals meet, drink, and swap stories. Tashlaan's happens to be managed by Corrinth's mother. You decide to head over there and introduce yourself, and see where the locals might need you.

Coming back out from the woods, you find Corrinth leaning on a fence, waiting up for you. She seems pleased with her selections, and regardless of whether or not your clothes are well-made or expensive, you can't help but feel a bit ominous, dressing this way. You worry it might make it difficult to approach people, but thankfully, a bar is a good place to melt away tensions, even early in the day, like this.

"You look good," Corrinth says, innocently.

You tip your hat back and glance at the squawking crows on the roofline of the inn. "I look like one of your birds," you complain. "Don't you think people will think I'm strange?"

"You are strange," she teases, "and not every crow that hangs around is one of 'my' birds, alright? A lot of them are just noisy pests. But, whatever. You look fine either way - and I wear a lot of plain black outfits, too, and no one has ever cared how I dress, anyway... So do you need me to show you around, or not?"

You ignore the fact that Lachlaen had already commented on your clothes just yesterday and shake your head. "I'll get the tour later," you reply, leaving Corrinth a bit crestfallen before your next thought brings her back: "Right now, I think I'll head into the tavern and see if anyone has work for me."

---
You step in through the tavern door and find a rather large, dimly lit space with around a dozen small tables and a long bar top. None of the tables are occupied, but a few men and women are sitting at the bar, talking and drinking some weak beers to kick off the day ahead of work. Behind the counter stands an older woman, apparently Corrinth's mother, leaning against a wooden beam and chatting with her early customers. Although the light is low and flickering from the candle lanterns placed about, you're still struck by how attractive she looks, despite her age.

She waves at you as you approach. "Oh, a newcomer~!" she beams before noticing your clothes and her daughter at your side. A knowing look comes over her for a moment before her cheerfulness reappears. "Welcome to Tashlaan, friend. Where did you come from?"

1. Half-Truth: "Zuklanar," you reply blandly, but with a smile. "My name is Agranne. I was on my way south toward the sea when I met Corrinth, and she said I might find some work and welcoming folk around here."

2. Truth: "Zuklanar," you reply blandly, with a sly smile which gives everything you're about to say an air of sarcasm - the setup for a joke, but one which Corrinth's mother would see through and understand the gravity of the situation. "I'm wanted for murder and crimes against the Church. Is this a good town to lay low in?"
 

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