hardcore.munchkin
Professional hater
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Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening
- Thread starter Thread starter K0mori
- Start date Start date
bat_hacker
Junior Member
2
demytra
the writer
2
LoriMahe
Ohoho!
1
Damian0358
Roleplaying Procrastinator From Elsewhere
2
Infab
The Demon Fanatic
- Group
- Dice
1
K0mori
Servant Supreme
Option 1: 3 Votes (33% - Range: 1-33)
Option 2: 6 Votes (67% - Range: 34-100)
Fae Roll: 75
"We don't need either of them," you declare, quietly. "...They aren't coming with us."
Corrinth looks back from the emotional display and stares at you intently. "Then let them go," she urges you.
You smirk. "I don't want to."
Embryx doesn't seem as amused by the task as you are, but she nonetheless takes up her scythe. She's seen firsthand the sort of damage that ill-placed mercy can get you, and she really doesn't want to suffer the company of any more untrustworthy allies. She manipulates Callypseae and Zwynn - to put them at peace, before issuing a simple compulsion to walk off the edge of the ship.
"Then- Then just-" Corrinth sputters, incredulously as the shadow smoke rises from the tip of Embryx' blade, and the Elder of Sonnamille disappears over the railing, hitting the water with a crash. As the shock of the cold water breaks the manipulation and Callypseae begins to thrash on the surface, she calls back to Zwynn, who's struggling to mount the railing with her undersized body.
Between the crash of numbing limbs against icy sea, you hear Callypseae screaming to her student and longtime friend: "DON'T JUMP, SWYNNSALL! DON'T JUMP!!!"
Embryx can't look anymore, and even your own dark heart fails to savor this the way it did when it was inundated with witchcraft. At last, the goblin is able to hook her leg over the side of the railing and pull herself up, before wordlessly launching herself off the edge. A blur flies past you, expanding in an instant into a black cloud, from which the peryton emerges. "Wha- oh shit!" you blurt as Corrinth dives over the edge of the ship as well.
You and the others scramble to the edge to get a better view just in time to see Corrinth struggling with trying to scoop both of the condemned women out of the water. The weight and the awkwardness of the lift, combined with the shockingly cold seawater, is causing the beast to panic at the surface, choppy waves threatening to fully engulf her in the deadly spray and claim her life as well. At last, nothing else can be done for the elf, and Corrinth kicks her stiffening arms loose from her talons before beating her wings heroically, hoisting just the goblin free.
"The FUCK is she doing!?" Embryx shouts, furiously as the beast rises above the top deck. She points her war-scythe right between Corrinth's eyes as she accosts her, prepared to unleash a lethal strike if Corrinth means to fight, here and now. "What the fuck are you doing, Corrinth!?" she blasts again.
Corrinth lets out a bestial roar before answering in an inhuman voice: "...This one lives."
Embryx hesitates a moment, and looks to you for your input, but before you can even consider the challenge, Corrinth turns and begins flying away towards the shoreline. You can't help but shake your head, dumbfounded at her behavior. "She doesn't even know her!" you complain, gesturing at her shrinking form in the distant sky. The remaining trio, shaken by the entire display, are at a loss for words as well.
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. At least Callypseae is dead, and with far less dignity than Kulka...
For now, you become a hexblood once more, but you'll return to sorcery should you need it again.
The moment the gangplank is dropped onto the quay, you hex the inspectors who come to check on your ship to turn them away, and with no one paying any attention to you or your accompaniment, you, Embryx, Raka, and Rheyah enter the city without hassle. You had almost forgotten how different Zuklanar's cities appear from the more rustic appearance of Turadal - from the way the streets are paved with cut stones instead of cobbles, to the carefully-constructed, shingled buildings that tower high in the air, even when they have no need for it, so unlike the plain thatched-roof cottages seen all throughout the kingdom.
The people here also carry themselves very differently. All around you, there is very little color. The clothing is drab, almost entirely black aside from the odd scarf or hat, and the city folk walk with their heads down-turned, burdened with some knowledge or task that renders them spiritually weak. But worse yet, on practically every corner is some sort of beggar, pauper, or urchin looking for their next meal while the healthy, able-bodied sorts walk past them as if they aren't there at all. You take a moment to simply drink it in, your eyes narrowed in disgust.
Unlike the last time you felt this hatred, it's not the city leaders, or some nobleman or woman who becomes the target of your ire. You recall what Gallanis said to you last night: once you became the key to either preventing or causing our downfall, you became the only mortal any of us really cared about.
At times like this, you wonder if it's even worthwhile to prevent the world's undoing if this is the sort of misery the gods will allow to fester while they sort out their differences. But then you calm yourself and remember all the happiness you've seen on your travels, how actually, genuinely good the world can be when it's allowed to grow, and share, and heal itself from the constant onslaught of injustice and misfortune. Having pulled yourself back from that dark pit in your soul, you wonder if that's why Syrith is the way that she is. Maybe she looked so deep into that hateful abyss that she couldn't look away, and now destruction is all she desires.
Embryx suddenly grabs you and directs your attention across an open square. On the other side, Corrinth stands against a wall, a stolen greatcoat draped over her shoulders to mitigate the cold and damp. She's looking directly at you rather intensely, but she doesn't move. You look to the others. "...Think she's hiding Zwynn under that coat?" you ask them quietly. They don't seem to find it funny, so you shrug them off.
Corrinth slowly lifts her hands out of her pockets and shows you she's not holding her wand.
1. Approach Carefully - You recognize that the changeling isn't trying to run or fight against you, and so you beckon the others to follow. As you cross the plaza into earshot, you ask Corrinth what's gotten into her, but you suspect you already know.
2. Approach Derisively - You warn the others to be on their guard as you cross the square, more than a little annoyed that Corrinth would cause such a fuss over two victims that certainly didn't deserve any sympathy. "...Gonna cry over Diala, next?" you snap at her.
3. Approach Forcefully - You aren't taking any chances, and you know that Embryx won't either. You immediately compel Corrinth to freeze in place as the drow takes out her war-scythe again. "Watch yourselves, this might be a trap," you warn her and the others as you close in.
Option 2: 6 Votes (67% - Range: 34-100)
Fae Roll: 75
"We don't need either of them," you declare, quietly. "...They aren't coming with us."
Corrinth looks back from the emotional display and stares at you intently. "Then let them go," she urges you.
You smirk. "I don't want to."
Embryx doesn't seem as amused by the task as you are, but she nonetheless takes up her scythe. She's seen firsthand the sort of damage that ill-placed mercy can get you, and she really doesn't want to suffer the company of any more untrustworthy allies. She manipulates Callypseae and Zwynn - to put them at peace, before issuing a simple compulsion to walk off the edge of the ship.
"Then- Then just-" Corrinth sputters, incredulously as the shadow smoke rises from the tip of Embryx' blade, and the Elder of Sonnamille disappears over the railing, hitting the water with a crash. As the shock of the cold water breaks the manipulation and Callypseae begins to thrash on the surface, she calls back to Zwynn, who's struggling to mount the railing with her undersized body.
Between the crash of numbing limbs against icy sea, you hear Callypseae screaming to her student and longtime friend: "DON'T JUMP, SWYNNSALL! DON'T JUMP!!!"
Embryx can't look anymore, and even your own dark heart fails to savor this the way it did when it was inundated with witchcraft. At last, the goblin is able to hook her leg over the side of the railing and pull herself up, before wordlessly launching herself off the edge. A blur flies past you, expanding in an instant into a black cloud, from which the peryton emerges. "Wha- oh shit!" you blurt as Corrinth dives over the edge of the ship as well.
You and the others scramble to the edge to get a better view just in time to see Corrinth struggling with trying to scoop both of the condemned women out of the water. The weight and the awkwardness of the lift, combined with the shockingly cold seawater, is causing the beast to panic at the surface, choppy waves threatening to fully engulf her in the deadly spray and claim her life as well. At last, nothing else can be done for the elf, and Corrinth kicks her stiffening arms loose from her talons before beating her wings heroically, hoisting just the goblin free.
"The FUCK is she doing!?" Embryx shouts, furiously as the beast rises above the top deck. She points her war-scythe right between Corrinth's eyes as she accosts her, prepared to unleash a lethal strike if Corrinth means to fight, here and now. "What the fuck are you doing, Corrinth!?" she blasts again.
Corrinth lets out a bestial roar before answering in an inhuman voice: "...This one lives."
Embryx hesitates a moment, and looks to you for your input, but before you can even consider the challenge, Corrinth turns and begins flying away towards the shoreline. You can't help but shake your head, dumbfounded at her behavior. "She doesn't even know her!" you complain, gesturing at her shrinking form in the distant sky. The remaining trio, shaken by the entire display, are at a loss for words as well.
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. At least Callypseae is dead, and with far less dignity than Kulka...
---
It takes over an hour before your ship reaches the harbor of an Imperial town called Valrath. By that time, you've caught an earful from Embryx over the situation and have been talked into once again rewriting your divine runes. You can't help but agree that you need witchcraft, but creating a new rune which will allow you to cast both light and dark magic interchangeably proves harder than you would've expected.
For now, you become a hexblood once more, but you'll return to sorcery should you need it again.
The moment the gangplank is dropped onto the quay, you hex the inspectors who come to check on your ship to turn them away, and with no one paying any attention to you or your accompaniment, you, Embryx, Raka, and Rheyah enter the city without hassle. You had almost forgotten how different Zuklanar's cities appear from the more rustic appearance of Turadal - from the way the streets are paved with cut stones instead of cobbles, to the carefully-constructed, shingled buildings that tower high in the air, even when they have no need for it, so unlike the plain thatched-roof cottages seen all throughout the kingdom.
The people here also carry themselves very differently. All around you, there is very little color. The clothing is drab, almost entirely black aside from the odd scarf or hat, and the city folk walk with their heads down-turned, burdened with some knowledge or task that renders them spiritually weak. But worse yet, on practically every corner is some sort of beggar, pauper, or urchin looking for their next meal while the healthy, able-bodied sorts walk past them as if they aren't there at all. You take a moment to simply drink it in, your eyes narrowed in disgust.
Unlike the last time you felt this hatred, it's not the city leaders, or some nobleman or woman who becomes the target of your ire. You recall what Gallanis said to you last night: once you became the key to either preventing or causing our downfall, you became the only mortal any of us really cared about.
At times like this, you wonder if it's even worthwhile to prevent the world's undoing if this is the sort of misery the gods will allow to fester while they sort out their differences. But then you calm yourself and remember all the happiness you've seen on your travels, how actually, genuinely good the world can be when it's allowed to grow, and share, and heal itself from the constant onslaught of injustice and misfortune. Having pulled yourself back from that dark pit in your soul, you wonder if that's why Syrith is the way that she is. Maybe she looked so deep into that hateful abyss that she couldn't look away, and now destruction is all she desires.
Embryx suddenly grabs you and directs your attention across an open square. On the other side, Corrinth stands against a wall, a stolen greatcoat draped over her shoulders to mitigate the cold and damp. She's looking directly at you rather intensely, but she doesn't move. You look to the others. "...Think she's hiding Zwynn under that coat?" you ask them quietly. They don't seem to find it funny, so you shrug them off.
Corrinth slowly lifts her hands out of her pockets and shows you she's not holding her wand.
1. Approach Carefully - You recognize that the changeling isn't trying to run or fight against you, and so you beckon the others to follow. As you cross the plaza into earshot, you ask Corrinth what's gotten into her, but you suspect you already know.
2. Approach Derisively - You warn the others to be on their guard as you cross the square, more than a little annoyed that Corrinth would cause such a fuss over two victims that certainly didn't deserve any sympathy. "...Gonna cry over Diala, next?" you snap at her.
3. Approach Forcefully - You aren't taking any chances, and you know that Embryx won't either. You immediately compel Corrinth to freeze in place as the drow takes out her war-scythe again. "Watch yourselves, this might be a trap," you warn her and the others as you close in.
Infab
The Demon Fanatic
- Group
- Dice
1
Damian0358
Roleplaying Procrastinator From Elsewhere
1
Breadman
Big loaf supreme
3
LoriMahe
Ohoho!
1
hardcore.munchkin
Professional hater
2
demytra
the writer
1
bat_hacker
Junior Member
1
turtwigwins
Member
1
Approach Carefully
New
K0mori
Servant Supreme
Option 1: 6 Votes (75% - Range: 1-75)
Option 2: 1 Vote (13% - Range: 76-88)
Option 3: 1 Vote (13% - Range: 89-100)
Fae Roll: 58
"I told her to get lost," Corrinth says, sidestepping the heart of the question. "If I don't know where she's going, then you two can't pry it out of me."
Embryx isn't letting her off the hook, but her tone is less harsh than you'd expect. "Okay, but why, though? You helped me kill the rest of them on the boat," she demands, exasperation underpinning every word. "...You scared the shit out of us," she adds, under her breath.
"Yeah..." she acknowledges, a bit ashamed. "Look, I'm..." she tries to explain, gesticulating plaintively.
You speak for her, before Embryx loses what little patience she's gained for the changeling and resorts to reading her mind. "It's because Zwynn looked like a kid, crying out to her mother," you suggest. "Think about it."
Embryx' eyes widen as she recognizes it too. Although Zwynn is a grown woman, her drastically shrunken size and general helplessness in her new, goblin body made her appear childlike next to Callypseae's tall, elven stature. And considering that you and your allies cleared out the manor in Ellifarre and then wiped out the elder's inner circle, Callypseae herself was probably Zwynn's only remaining friend in the world. Her cries of distress were as deep and agonized as anyone standing at the edge of such a loss.
"...I'm sorry," Corrinth says. "I'm missing a good chunk of my memories, but I must've seen something of myself in her. I- I don't like seeing others go through what I went through, alright? So... If it's all the same to you, if I survive our run-in with Syrith tonight, then I'd like to track her down again and help her," she pleads.
You don't really even need to mull it over. "...Alright," you say with a shrug. "I can let that one go."
Corrinth smiles, closing her eyes and nodding in thanks. Embryx sighs, meanwhile, before also accepting her explanation. "So... Which way is Saltrafken, then?"
Everyone looks around for any sort of signage or navigational aid which might point you in the right direction. Seeing none, you decide to head into a tavern to buy a quick bite and ask for directions. Your quintet steps into the neatly-kept establishment and you set about charming any and all witnesses in order to make things fast and easy. Even before your magic takes hold of them, there's something... listless about the behavior of the Imperials. You had always assumed that Ryggander was just an especially desolate place where hope was sparce, but it appears to you now that the entire empire lacks much in the way of good spirits, regardless of how good the local business is.
"Oi, bartender," Raka addresses, snapping her finger so that the bearded human would look down to her level. "Gin!" she demands.
Rheyah grimaces. "Really, right now?" she chastises her.
"I'm not gonna die zober," Raka hisses. "I'll have one now and one when we get there. I'll be fine; gin'z juzt gin. If I waz gonna make myzelf a problem I'd azk for whizky."
The tavernkeeper places a bottle of gin on the counter, which Rheyah passes down to her friend. "Go ahead and bring another, friend," the tiefling says, reluctantly. "...And some good wine for me."
The lack of music and stuffy atmosphere of your surroundings really begins to wear on you, and you get a sense that your allies are truly preparing themselves for the end. You decide in that moment to share a drink, here, to salute the moment and appreciate this last respite before the end of your journey - but only just one drink, as you don't want to dwell on it for too long. "Just a beer for me," you say.
"Same," Embryx says.
Even Corrinth decides to take up the opportunity, despite still being cold and damp and uncomfortable beneath her coat. "...Do you have any applejack?"
You each gulp down the last of your own cups and stand up, almost thankful to be free of this unhappy establishment. But nonetheless, you make an offer to them to brighten the mood. "Once I've settled things between the Eldest and the Pantheon," you declare, "we'll go to Upara."
"Athea?" Embryx sputters.
You nod with a chuckle as if to suggest you aren't quite serious, but nonetheless you continue to propose your plan for a getaway to the jewel of the goblin coast, known throughout the world for its raucous celebrations and runaway debauchery, especially around the holidays. "Yeah! And better yet, if I use my divinity, then we can all go as goblins, so all of us can know what it's like to dive into the bottomless gobbie-goblet!"
It had started as a joke, but immediately after suggesting it you actually find yourself excited at the prospect of an infinite drunkenness - just like Ika used to chase. Raka snickers a bit at the idea, and Corrinth cracks a smile as if she might actually be interested. Rheyah, however, walks past you without acknowledging the invitation, and Embryx looks as if she's going to slap the shit out of you.
"...Maybe not right after," you concede, "but don't tell me never."
Embryx sighs and shakes her head, lightening up a bit and even cracking a smirk. "...Whatever."
"So," you begin, aiming to pass the time, "you heard our story last night," you say to the two newcomers. "...Let's hear yours."
Raka grunts irritably, still walking a bit unsteadily.
"Well..." Rheyah speaks up, rubbing her hands up and down her arms and looking to each of you uncertainly. "I'm originally from Pasheau. My father was a spellscribe at the Mage's College there and made a good bit of coin on the scroll trade. I had my awakening at nine years old, a little more than a decade ago, and my father decided that it would be safest for everyone if I got sent away to "live with relatives" in Estfang. The coward couldn't bring himself to say goodbye, so my mom was the one who took me to the harbor. As soon as she was out of earshot she told me there was no way in the hells that she'd send me to Estfang, so she bought my passage aboard a ship bound for Sonnamille.
"She said I'd be safer there, and she was right. The coven ran a shelter for wayward children near the coastline and I was placed into it when I wouldn't tell anyone where I came from. I didn't have the Estfang accent so they knew it would be a death sentence if they sent me there... Anyway, I'm nothing special, as far as witches go, but I've got a strong pneuma and my elders thought I had good potential, so they sent me up to Ellifarre," she concludes as you reach the town of Saltrafken and skirt around its edges, keeping on your western route.
Raka starts laughing, strangely. "...I waz born up north in Thandan, zo I zhould'a been in Kulka's lot, you know. Problem iz, I didn't wake up to witchcraft until I went zouth on a pilgrimage to Athea to pay my rezpectz to the party god. I got abzolutely zhit-blazted drunk on new year'z, then got talked into following zome localz into the woodz for zome more 'fun and local traditionz...' and then I killed the zhit out of 'em when I realized they were gonna take turnz raping me. No magic, juzt... agh, angh, agh!" she gestures as if stabbing with a knife.
"After that," she continues, "I met a necromancer who wanted their bodiez; zhe ztopped me before I could burn 'em. I could feel myzelf drawn to her wand, drawn to her magic, and I juzt azked if I could give it a whirl. Turnz out, I'm a witch, of courze, and zo I follow thiz girl over the border into Zonnamille to get away from the mezz I made, and for three yearz I've been bouncing around the elf circlez while they try to figure out what to do with me. I get along well with Rheyah, here, zo when zhe got called up to Ellifarre, I got called up."
"And we know the rest," Embryx says. "The elves didn't want either of you around, but Rheyah stuck with it because she didn't have any better plans, and you stuck around because she did."
Raka nods. "Yup."
"Fair enough," you reply, feeling your confidence fading as the sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, bathing the satin clouds in pinkish hues. You emerge from a patch of barren trees to suddenly find yourself overlooking a frozen river. Remembering the directions you were given, you turn south and begin walking alongside the river. A sense of dread begins to form in the pit of your stomach, and you stop watching the undulations of the landscape, and stop looking for the island you were told would be waiting for you. It'll come in its own time. Just exist in this moment, and be thankful that you've made it here with friends...
You need one more conversation to get you through these last few miles. Everyone does. They need something to think about as they come face to face with destiny.
1. Ask About Rewards - "You know," you say, breaking the silence again, "if I come out of this thing a full-fledged goddess, what do you guys want? ...I could probably make just about anything happen, I suppose."
2. Ask About the Gods - "You know, if I do this thing," you say, a horrible uncertainty brewing within, "the Pantheon probably isn't going to want me to keep all the divinity I'm stealing from Syrith. What if giving it up to them would be just as bad as letting Syrith have it?"
3. Ask About Final Wishes - "...There's something I think I should ask," you say, softly. "I know we keep saying stuff like 'if we make it through this...' But we haven't said anything about what'll happen if we don't," you say. "I think we should put it out there - what we want - if we don't come back, so if any of us does, then they can handle it for the ones who didn't."
Option 2: 1 Vote (13% - Range: 76-88)
Option 3: 1 Vote (13% - Range: 89-100)
Fae Roll: 58
"I told her to get lost," Corrinth says, sidestepping the heart of the question. "If I don't know where she's going, then you two can't pry it out of me."
Embryx isn't letting her off the hook, but her tone is less harsh than you'd expect. "Okay, but why, though? You helped me kill the rest of them on the boat," she demands, exasperation underpinning every word. "...You scared the shit out of us," she adds, under her breath.
"Yeah..." she acknowledges, a bit ashamed. "Look, I'm..." she tries to explain, gesticulating plaintively.
You speak for her, before Embryx loses what little patience she's gained for the changeling and resorts to reading her mind. "It's because Zwynn looked like a kid, crying out to her mother," you suggest. "Think about it."
Embryx' eyes widen as she recognizes it too. Although Zwynn is a grown woman, her drastically shrunken size and general helplessness in her new, goblin body made her appear childlike next to Callypseae's tall, elven stature. And considering that you and your allies cleared out the manor in Ellifarre and then wiped out the elder's inner circle, Callypseae herself was probably Zwynn's only remaining friend in the world. Her cries of distress were as deep and agonized as anyone standing at the edge of such a loss.
"...I'm sorry," Corrinth says. "I'm missing a good chunk of my memories, but I must've seen something of myself in her. I- I don't like seeing others go through what I went through, alright? So... If it's all the same to you, if I survive our run-in with Syrith tonight, then I'd like to track her down again and help her," she pleads.
You don't really even need to mull it over. "...Alright," you say with a shrug. "I can let that one go."
Corrinth smiles, closing her eyes and nodding in thanks. Embryx sighs, meanwhile, before also accepting her explanation. "So... Which way is Saltrafken, then?"
Everyone looks around for any sort of signage or navigational aid which might point you in the right direction. Seeing none, you decide to head into a tavern to buy a quick bite and ask for directions. Your quintet steps into the neatly-kept establishment and you set about charming any and all witnesses in order to make things fast and easy. Even before your magic takes hold of them, there's something... listless about the behavior of the Imperials. You had always assumed that Ryggander was just an especially desolate place where hope was sparce, but it appears to you now that the entire empire lacks much in the way of good spirits, regardless of how good the local business is.
"Oi, bartender," Raka addresses, snapping her finger so that the bearded human would look down to her level. "Gin!" she demands.
Rheyah grimaces. "Really, right now?" she chastises her.
"I'm not gonna die zober," Raka hisses. "I'll have one now and one when we get there. I'll be fine; gin'z juzt gin. If I waz gonna make myzelf a problem I'd azk for whizky."
The tavernkeeper places a bottle of gin on the counter, which Rheyah passes down to her friend. "Go ahead and bring another, friend," the tiefling says, reluctantly. "...And some good wine for me."
The lack of music and stuffy atmosphere of your surroundings really begins to wear on you, and you get a sense that your allies are truly preparing themselves for the end. You decide in that moment to share a drink, here, to salute the moment and appreciate this last respite before the end of your journey - but only just one drink, as you don't want to dwell on it for too long. "Just a beer for me," you say.
"Same," Embryx says.
Even Corrinth decides to take up the opportunity, despite still being cold and damp and uncomfortable beneath her coat. "...Do you have any applejack?"
---
With a solid plok, Raka placed her cup down on the counter. The tavernkeeper gave her an inquisitive look, but the goblin waved him off, burping and sticking out her tongue as she pushed out her bitter breath. "...That'z enough," she said. It was the first thing anyone had said in a few minutes as you had all nursed your drinks, or in Raka's case, drank two full cups of gin. "We get going now, I zober up while I walk. Any more than thiz, and you'll have to leave me."
You each gulp down the last of your own cups and stand up, almost thankful to be free of this unhappy establishment. But nonetheless, you make an offer to them to brighten the mood. "Once I've settled things between the Eldest and the Pantheon," you declare, "we'll go to Upara."
"Athea?" Embryx sputters.
You nod with a chuckle as if to suggest you aren't quite serious, but nonetheless you continue to propose your plan for a getaway to the jewel of the goblin coast, known throughout the world for its raucous celebrations and runaway debauchery, especially around the holidays. "Yeah! And better yet, if I use my divinity, then we can all go as goblins, so all of us can know what it's like to dive into the bottomless gobbie-goblet!"
It had started as a joke, but immediately after suggesting it you actually find yourself excited at the prospect of an infinite drunkenness - just like Ika used to chase. Raka snickers a bit at the idea, and Corrinth cracks a smile as if she might actually be interested. Rheyah, however, walks past you without acknowledging the invitation, and Embryx looks as if she's going to slap the shit out of you.
"...Maybe not right after," you concede, "but don't tell me never."
Embryx sighs and shakes her head, lightening up a bit and even cracking a smirk. "...Whatever."
---
The bartender gave you good directions, and it's not long before you've departed town on foot to travel almost dead west, towards a sun that's already beginning to hang lazily in winter's afternoon sky. While the scenery is gloomy, the light holds a surprising amber warmth that feels like a fond farewell, and as the afternoon drags into evening, you're certain that the sunset will only intensify your sentiments.
"So," you begin, aiming to pass the time, "you heard our story last night," you say to the two newcomers. "...Let's hear yours."
Raka grunts irritably, still walking a bit unsteadily.
"Well..." Rheyah speaks up, rubbing her hands up and down her arms and looking to each of you uncertainly. "I'm originally from Pasheau. My father was a spellscribe at the Mage's College there and made a good bit of coin on the scroll trade. I had my awakening at nine years old, a little more than a decade ago, and my father decided that it would be safest for everyone if I got sent away to "live with relatives" in Estfang. The coward couldn't bring himself to say goodbye, so my mom was the one who took me to the harbor. As soon as she was out of earshot she told me there was no way in the hells that she'd send me to Estfang, so she bought my passage aboard a ship bound for Sonnamille.
"She said I'd be safer there, and she was right. The coven ran a shelter for wayward children near the coastline and I was placed into it when I wouldn't tell anyone where I came from. I didn't have the Estfang accent so they knew it would be a death sentence if they sent me there... Anyway, I'm nothing special, as far as witches go, but I've got a strong pneuma and my elders thought I had good potential, so they sent me up to Ellifarre," she concludes as you reach the town of Saltrafken and skirt around its edges, keeping on your western route.
Raka starts laughing, strangely. "...I waz born up north in Thandan, zo I zhould'a been in Kulka's lot, you know. Problem iz, I didn't wake up to witchcraft until I went zouth on a pilgrimage to Athea to pay my rezpectz to the party god. I got abzolutely zhit-blazted drunk on new year'z, then got talked into following zome localz into the woodz for zome more 'fun and local traditionz...' and then I killed the zhit out of 'em when I realized they were gonna take turnz raping me. No magic, juzt... agh, angh, agh!" she gestures as if stabbing with a knife.
"After that," she continues, "I met a necromancer who wanted their bodiez; zhe ztopped me before I could burn 'em. I could feel myzelf drawn to her wand, drawn to her magic, and I juzt azked if I could give it a whirl. Turnz out, I'm a witch, of courze, and zo I follow thiz girl over the border into Zonnamille to get away from the mezz I made, and for three yearz I've been bouncing around the elf circlez while they try to figure out what to do with me. I get along well with Rheyah, here, zo when zhe got called up to Ellifarre, I got called up."
"And we know the rest," Embryx says. "The elves didn't want either of you around, but Rheyah stuck with it because she didn't have any better plans, and you stuck around because she did."
Raka nods. "Yup."
"Fair enough," you reply, feeling your confidence fading as the sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, bathing the satin clouds in pinkish hues. You emerge from a patch of barren trees to suddenly find yourself overlooking a frozen river. Remembering the directions you were given, you turn south and begin walking alongside the river. A sense of dread begins to form in the pit of your stomach, and you stop watching the undulations of the landscape, and stop looking for the island you were told would be waiting for you. It'll come in its own time. Just exist in this moment, and be thankful that you've made it here with friends...
You need one more conversation to get you through these last few miles. Everyone does. They need something to think about as they come face to face with destiny.
1. Ask About Rewards - "You know," you say, breaking the silence again, "if I come out of this thing a full-fledged goddess, what do you guys want? ...I could probably make just about anything happen, I suppose."
2. Ask About the Gods - "You know, if I do this thing," you say, a horrible uncertainty brewing within, "the Pantheon probably isn't going to want me to keep all the divinity I'm stealing from Syrith. What if giving it up to them would be just as bad as letting Syrith have it?"
3. Ask About Final Wishes - "...There's something I think I should ask," you say, softly. "I know we keep saying stuff like 'if we make it through this...' But we haven't said anything about what'll happen if we don't," you say. "I think we should put it out there - what we want - if we don't come back, so if any of us does, then they can handle it for the ones who didn't."
Breadman
Big loaf supreme
3
THEKAZUHA_ANEMO
𝐖𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝
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3
CHUUYAS_HAT
ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ
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3
