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Often, things will look much better after a good night's sleep. Often, but not always.
You could sleep for a thousand years, for example, and you'd still wake up to the fact that Miura was kidnapped – and almost murdered – by one of your own. An apprentice, recently reported missing from the Nameless Temple only to surface as part of some fanatical conspiracy. Now, after his death at Musari's hands, you'll never get the chance to ask him why. There was something there, some reason for that moment of hesitation you saw – and you'll never know what it was.
Could it have been as simple as fear? He claimed that he was prepared to die for his cause, but such claims often falter when the time to put them to the test finally comes. You know that dwelling on it will do you no good, but still the thoughts return to haunt you. It's not that you blame Musari for the boy's death, but...
But you don't have the chance to finish that thought. With his face set in a grim mask, Tawn slides into the seat opposite you.
>>45879218
“Quite the difficult situation we find ourselves in,” he says, by way of introduction, “Wouldn't you say?”
Difficult, you ask cautiously, in what way? Difficult to accept, or difficult to salvage something from?
“Both, probably,” Tawn frowns, “Listen Ira, I won't mince my words – this situation isn't going to reflect well on the Nameless Temple. One of your apprentices, collaborating with army deserters in order to carry out some unknown plan? The Emperor will, at the very least, order an investigation. I would expect, as well, more covert attempts at studying the temple. Spies, in other words, or bribes paid to anyone willing to talk.”
It makes sense. You could rant and rave all day at the injustice of it – you can hardly be blamed, after all, when the apprentice in question was kidnapped – but it wouldn't do any good. Best to focus on what can be done. Namely, why is Tawn mentioning this now?
“Because...” Tawn hesitates, duty warring with something more personal inside him, “Because the Emperor can only order an investigation if he has a reason to. If this apprentice never made it into my report, the issue would be settled, wouldn't it? A gang of army deserters kidnapping a priestess with the aim of holding her ransom – I think the story would take, don't you?”
Perhaps, you admit, but is he really willing to lie on his official reports like that?
“Honestly? I don't like the idea much. That said, I think I owe you this one,” he pauses again, holding up a single finger, “And I said “one” for a reason. If this happens again, I won't be able to keep it under wraps. Of course, if you think the Emperor should know the truth, this is all hypothetical. What, then, do you say?”
>Conceal the truth. The culprit was a deserter from the army
>Reveal the truth. The culprit was an apprentice of the Nameless Temple
>Other
>>45879229
>Reveal the truth. The culprit was an apprentice of the Nameless Temple
I don't think it will be bad if it's mentioned that Wanderers are getting killed and apprentices disappearing
>>45879229
>>Reveal the truth. The culprit was an apprentice of the Nameless Temple
Better that the truth comes out now than if we try and hide it.
Let the Emperor know the truth, you decide after a moment of careful thought. Better that he learns now than later, after you've tried to hide it from him. It would put Tawn in a pretty awkward position if the truth came out later, after all.
“True,” Tawn acknowledges, “But you're really prepared to take this chance?”
Considering that Wanderers are being murdered and apprentices kidnapped? Yes, you nod, you're prepared for whatever the Emperor can throw at you. When the murders are taken into account, it hardly looks like something that can be blamed on the Nameless Temple itself.
“It's your decision,” Tawn gives you an appreciative smile, “But I'm glad you decided this. It makes things a lot easier for me. Still, there was some other matters I wanted to talk about. Musari went back to the mountain pass this morning, with enough soldiers to search the area properly. The bodies they recovered were useless – no incriminating details or information – but he did find these.” Reaching into a pouch, Tawn lets a cascade of little brass casings roll across the table.
Bullet casings, you guess as you pick one up and examine it, but... small. Not like any you've ever seen before. About half the size of the typical half inch slug that rifles usually use.
“Exactly so,” Tawn takes one of the casings and turns it over in his hands, “No markings, either, to suggest where it was made. They must have their own facilities somewhere out in the mountains – which suggests that they have more resources than I first thought. A lot more. I'm going to recommend exploring the southern mountains more carefully, but I expect that suggestion will be ignored.”
Ignored, you ask as you let the casing drop into your pocket, why?
[1/2]
>>45879482
just bring a dog, god(s).
Can hardly be blamed when on a "casual stroll with your pet", the dog "happened to catch a scent and dragged you along"
>>45879482
“The mountains are too big for any kind of realistic search. Even without taking caves and hidden tunnels into account, the entire army could search the border for a year without covering everything. At a time like this, that just isn't possible,” Tawn sighs, “Especially when the Emperor wants to keep his armies close, guarding the capital and the more “loyal” towns. So, without a solid lead on where to start looking...”
The cult – or whatever you're calling it – will slip away, you finish. Lapsing into a disgruntled silence for a moment, you ask Tawn about what happens now. What are his next orders?
“My job will be to return the girl to Garuna,” he replies, “I'll be riding with an escort, so it should be safe enough. I gather you'll be returning to the Nameless Temple?”
Probably, you confirm. Before you leave though, you ask, does Tawn really think this will work? Marrying Miura off to the Emperor, you mean.
“Will it work? I can't say for sure,” Tawn shrugs, “I met the Emperor once. He's impulsive, but he follows his whims no matter what. If he falls for her, he'll fall hard. If not... this will all be wasted effort.”
Not wasted, you correct him, since you saved Miura's life. Still, you don't even know if she's willing to marry the Emperor. If SHE doesn't want to, this all might be a hopeless cause.
“I'll do it,” Miura says, her voice coming unnoticed from the doorway as she slips silently into the room, “I understand what purpose it would serve – peace and stability. I'm willing to do it.”
That... makes things easier. One less thing to worry about, at least. As Miura sits at the table, you're reminded that you've not yet questioned her about what happened. It's a long shot, but her captors might have let something slip.
>Miura, you don't have to marry anyone if you don't want to
>Is there anything you can tell me about your captors?
>I've got a specific question for you (Write in)
>Other
>>45879518
>Miura, how do you feel about the Emperor? And what about what might be expected changes to your current position as a priestess if you married him?
>Do you know anything about steel rings?
>Any particular sights, sounds, smells?
>Did the name Nodens come up at any time?
>>45879518
>Is there anything you can tell me about your captors?
Option 1 feels a bit moot when she says she's willing to do it for peace and stability. In any case, it's not really our place to say anything about that.
>>45879518
>>Is there anything you can tell me about your captors?
And some good questions here >>45879554
>>45879518
>>45879554
This seems solid!
Start with the basics – was there anything specific she recalls in terms of smells or sounds? Anything unusual she saw when she was captured? Of course, if she was blindfolded...
“Actually, I wasn't,” Miura says simply, “They were very... lax about that, yet very careful about other things. They didn't use any names, but they let me see where they were taking me. The soldiers, at least – I don't think they had any real ill will towards me. It wasn't personal, I don't think. But let me see, there was something... the masked one, the one who was in charge. He had a funny smell about him, like... gunpowder, I suppose. Gunpowder and other chemicals that I didn't recognise.”
If they've been making their own ammunition and poisons, you think aloud, that would make sense. She said they didn't use any names, you add, but is she certain that the name “Nodens” never came up? She might have mistaken it for something else, perhaps.
“Nodens? I know the name,” Miura nods once, “Like in the old stories. No, they never mentioned him – but the soldiers didn't talk about such lofty things, and the masked one was alone. I'm afraid they never raised the issue.”
Not entirely unexpected. What about a steel ring, you ask, was anything like that mentioned?
“Yes!” Miura recoils slightly at the mention of it, her eyes widening slightly, “Um, let me see. The masked one said that his master wore a steel ring. He never used a specific name, but he said... the Hand, I think? Yes, that was it. More of a title, I suppose.”
The Hand, you repeat to yourself. Someone appointing themselves the hand of the gods, perhaps? Or maybe the hand of someone higher up, the true master of this conspiracy? Without the context, you've got no way of being certain.
[1/2]
>>45879744
Fine, you say with a sigh, that's all the questions you can think about. Is there anything else she can tell you, anything that she can think of at all?
“You know,” Miura says slowly, a thoughtful note in her voice, “I know that they were bad people, I know what they've done, but they seemed... kind to me. The masked one treated me with respect, as if we were equals rather than a prisoner and captor. He was polite, and faithful in his own way. Ah, I'm not trying to excuse anything he did, of course...”
It doesn't matter, you wave off her concern, you're not about to accuse her of collaborating with them based off a simple comment like that. Any information she can provide might be helpful. Moving on, you ask a moment later as the atmosphere changes to a less formal one, does she have any thoughts about the Emperor himself?
“I hear he's very young,” a look of slight concern passes across Miura's face, “I feel a little better about that. Marrying someone my own age is a lot better than, well...”
Right, you nod, you know what she's trying to say. There's something you've been wondering, actually – how would her role as a priestess change, should she marry the Emperor?
“I would be a priestess in name only, then,” Miura admits, “I would be excused – excluded, rather – from all formal rites and ceremonies. Yet, for all the power I would lose in Garuna, the goddess might gain a certain influence in the capital. I'm... not sure how that works, or what is expected of me in that case. My moth- I mean, the head priestess is yet to teach me about that.”
Maab, you think with distaste, of course.
“Priestess,” Tawn says respectfully, “Are you prepared to leave? I wish to be away as soon as possible. Ira, is there anything else you want with us?”
>Nothing. Safe travels
>A few last questions... (Write in)
>I'm coming with you. Better safe than sorry
>Other
>>45879789
>I'm coming with you. Better safe than sorry.
>>45879789
>A few last questions... (Write in)
The flare. Was it standard issue and do you have one? If we fire one in the right spot, can we bait them to shoot again where we can locate them?
>>45879842
As an addendum, I think they'll be pretty safe. What's more important is either locating them right now in the mountains if we have a lead, or beating them to the punch for the next "event" they have planned.
>>45879789
>>Nothing. Safe travels
>>45879789
>>Nothing. Safe travels
I think they're probably okay and we should get back to the temple.
That flare the deserter launched, you ask Tawn, was that standard issue – something stolen from the army, perhaps? If so, you might be able to draw your enemies out with one of your own. Even if you were just able to trick them into firing on you, it would offer you a place to start looking.
“The gun itself was standard issue,” Tawn explains, “Pretty common in remote outposts, for summoning help in case of a serious attack. That said, they've almost never used – serious attacks are almost unheard of. They go missing from supply sheds all the time though, so there's little wonder this one surfaced in their hands. That said, we found some strange residue in the barrel. I think they might have been using a different kind of flare to the ones we use. Did you get a look at the colour?”
Not a good look, you reply as you search your memory. Maybe... red?
“Red is possible,” Tawn taps a finger on the table as he think, “My guess was purple. In either case, the army uses green flares. Something to do with the chemicals being easy to gather. In either case, I was going to drop the gun in at the alchemist's college and see if they can get anything from it. Maybe they can figure out where they right chemicals can be found – another lead, in other words. They might even be able to make a few shots for us, but that might be pushing it.”
It's not much, but it's definitely an area worth pursuing. That was your only question, you tell Tawn, so you'll let them leave. Safe travels, you add.
“Thank you for everything, Sir Ira,” Miura says as she rises, bowing low, “I hope we can meet again. Visit the temple again, won't you?”
You can't promise anything, you tell her, but you'd like that. Now, though, you should be making a move as well. The Nameless Temple awaits.
You just need to wake up Koa.
[1/2]
>>45880008
You were expecting complaints from the young apprentice, either at being dragged out of bed too early or not early enough to catch Miura leaving. Rather than any petulance, Koa just follows your instructions with a flat, weary obedience. As you watch him spoon thin porridge into his mouth, a sense of vague dismay begins to creep up on you.
He killed a man last night. It was in combat, of course, and the man would have killed Koa without a second thought if the boy hadn't acted. Still, the fact remains – he took his blade and ran the man through. There's not much in the world that can change someone as much as killing another man, and there's no way of knowing how easily Koa might come to terms with it.
“I'm ready,” the boy murmurs, his voice distant, as he pushes away the half-finished meal. Standing, he gathers his things and walks to the door, passing out of sight with none of his usual energy. When you catch up, he's already climbing onto his horse and looking out at the road ahead. Mounting your own steed, you dig your heels into the beast's flanks and start it moving. The Nameless Temple awaits.
You should talk about it, you decide after an hour passes without any words being exchanged, since Koa isn't going to bring it up. Still, you're not exactly the comforting type – he'd be better off speaking to the Mentor later.
>Confront Koa about it
>Let it lie for now
>Make conversation about something lighter instead
>Other
>>45880064
>Confront Koa about it
Don't sell yourself short Ira
>>45880064
>Confront Koa about it
>>45880064
>>Confront Koa about it
Sooner rather than later.
You might not be the best man for the job, but you'd rather not let this fester in the back of Koa's mind until you reach someone else willing to talk about it. Time to tackle the issue head on. Taking a few moments to gather your thoughts – more speculating about how to approach this than anything – you say Koa's name aloud. When the boy doesn't turn around, you call his name again – louder this time.
“Huh?” he asks, finally shifting to look your way. His eyes, you notice, have dark shadows around them. He looks older, and not in a good way.
Does he want to talk about it?
“It?” Koa repeats numbly, “Ira, I told you. I don't care about Miura. I mean, we barely spoke-”
Not that, you correct him. The fighting back there, when he was clearing the shack with you. Does he want to talk about THAT?
“Oh,” the apprentice lapses into silence, “I suppose I killed him, didn't I? The one with that hammer. A single thrust, just like we're trained to do. Is it really that easy?”
Men can be fragile, you tell him quietly. In a way, you think to yourself, Koa got lucky. The man died quickly, without much mess or fuss. When you've seen men clinging to life even when half their insides had been pulled out, you learn to appreciate the value of a clean death. That's something the apprentice will have to learn for himself in time – some things can't be taught.
“I get it, Ira,” staring ahead, Koa nods to himself, “It was him or me. I was ready to do my part, and I knew what that would involve. I guess I just... can't put it out of my mind. Even when I know, logically, that it was the only choice...”
That, you tell him quietly, is something he's got to learn to accept. It will take time, yes, but that's only natural. It shouldn't be easy, taking another man's life.
In retrospect, that probably wasn't a very comforting thing to say.
[1/2]
>>45880357
“Thanks Ira,” Koa says eventually, “I guess you're right. I think, though, when we get back...”
He might need some time alone?
“Just to think,” he assures you, “That's all. I'm not about to get up and walk out or anything. I think maybe it's time I spent some time practising meditation properly. Peace of mind, right? I mean, my teachers are always telling me that I need to learn how to not think. Well, one of said I've already mastered that, but-”
But, you ask as the boy falls silent again, but what?
“But I think he was insulting me!” Koa's voice bares the sound of outraged discovery, and you can't help but laugh a little at it. A moment passes, and Koa joins in with your laughter. While you can't quite escape the sombre mood, it seems to ease its grip on you for a while. The conversation shifts to easier things after that, with Koa's parts of the discussion slowly shifting back to Miura – and how definitely not bothered he is about her potential marriage.
That boy, you think to yourself, is going to cause you no end of trouble. That thought is still hovering around in your mind as the Nameless Temple rises up on the horizon before you. Glad to be home, you spur your horse on and put a little haste in its pace.
“Sir!” an apprentice you can't quite name announces as you finally enter the temple, “The Mentor was looking for you, and Howa down at the archives. Oh, but there was a girl here as well asking after you. I think she went to check the archives as well.”
A girl – Aya, perhaps? What could she be wanting with you?
>Visit the Mentor first
>Check in with Howa
>Go looking for this other girl
>Other
>>45880416
>Visit the Mentor first
>>45880416
>>Check in with Howa
>>Go looking for this other girl
In that order.
Both in the same place.
>>45880416
>Visit the Mentor first
Eh we should debrief first. We can go down to archives right after.
>>45880416
>>Visit the Mentor first
Business first. We might get a new spell out of it as well.
>>45880416
Even money on that girl being Selene, or the spy.
Heck, all my money on the spy being Selene for some double fuckery.
>>45880546
I don't know. It seems a little unlikely for a spy to get here so quickly. A normal human spy at least.
Business comes first – and that means visiting the Mentor. The situation has changed considerably since you were sent out to the Dragon's Head, and there's no way of being sure how much information has leaked back to the Nameless Temple. It's strange to think, you muse to yourself as you stride through the corridor, that this all started out with a speech and a request to talk with a priestess. It all went wrong so terribly quickly.
Behind his desk, the Mentor's aide waves you through with a startled look on his face. That's not the first time someone has looked at you like that, as if you've just crawled out of the grave. Perhaps rumours made it back to the temple before you did, and a particularly unsavoury kind of rumour at that.
The Mentor, at least, looks particularly unsurprised when you enter his domain – although you struggle to imagine what surprise might look like on that ancient face. Greeting you with a nod – one that you return with a bow – the Mentor gets right down to business.
“I understand that the lantern festival ended poorly,” he remarks, “But here you are, and Koa arrived back with you. I must ask, though – what happened?”
That, you say wearily, is a long story. Resigning yourself to a long explanation, you give the Mentor a careful summary of events. Starting with the moment you arrived at the Dragon's Head, you omit nothing until your arrival back at the Nameless Temple. Just as you expected, it takes a long time to cover everything. Longer still, when the Mentor asks you to repeat certain sections or clarity certain details. When you're finished, you feel exhausted – as if you had just relived the events themselves.
[1/2]
>>45880713
“I'm glad I sent you,” the Mentor decides eventually, “I fear a lesser agent would not have been quite so successful. I am saddened, of course, to hear about our wayward apprentice, but I fear there was no way of returning him here alive. Some men have resigned themselves to death – and when they do that, death will certainly find a way of claiming them. Men who cling to life, on the other hand, rarely go so easily.”
And what, you ask carefully, about Tawn's report? It could make things very difficult here for some time to come.
“And yet, I think you did the right thing,” the Mentor nods his head slowly, “Sowing false information would help no one in this situation. Perhaps we shall have to endure the Emperor looking over our shoulder for some time – but then he shall see that we are no threat to him. It may, in the long run, be to our benefit. Regardless, the truth has a value above mere convenience. Your judgement, Ira, is to be commended – not to mention rewarded.”
Well, you weren't going to ask, but...
“I can teach you a new act of magic, yes,” the Mentor nods, “But how do you wish me to shape your soul? What wisdom do you wish me to teach you?”
>Fire – the ways of attack
>Earth – the ways of defence
>Air – the ways of diverse magic
>Water – the ways of society
>>45880729
>>Water – the ways of society
Was going to get Fire next but then we got that Titanos combo card.
Maybe next card.
>>45880729
>>Water – the ways of society
Avoiding combat seems to be working out pretty well so far. Water should keep things working in our favor.
Water, you decide, you wish to study the ways of Water.
“Very good,” the Mentor says with a nod, holding out a hand to guide you deeper into his lair. As you walk, he speaks in a deliberately casual voice. The lesson, you realise, has already begun. “Tell me, Ira,” your teacher murmurs slowly, “How easily can men change the flow of a river. Can it be made to run back upon itself, against the current?”
With great difficulty, you think aloud, perhaps. Such a thing is beyond the limits of one humble man, though. Together, men can build dams, but...
“Consider,” the Mentor begins as he leads you into a bland room – with a stream of water running through it as the only feature, “Turning the current back poses a challenge to even the strongest man. However...” he pauses, gesturing towards a pile of bricks, “Place one of them into the stream, if you please. Do not throw it, Ira.” He adds that last part with a kind of weary amusement, as if he has seen students doing exactly that.
Taking one of the stone blocks, you kneel by the stream and follow the Mentor's orders. The waters keep on flowing, merely surging around the brick with only the slightest deviation. It didn't turn back the current, you point out.
[1/2]
>>45881008
“No, Ira, but observe,” the Mentor points at the water, “Only a huge effort could turn the current back upon itself – but only a small effort can steer the water. Consider the mob, the army, the surging tide of humanity itself – can such gatherings not be steered, as well, with a single word or deed? Men can be guided along a certain path, without ever knowing what has set them upon that road.”
And then, with the gurgling water singing a siren song in your ears, you grasp the lesson. Taking the Mentor's words into your heart, you feel a new power awakening within you.
>New spell card gained:
>[Water] Guiding the flow
>“Rivers can be diverted, guided upon a superior path by those with the foresight to do so.”
>You can instil a particular emotion (sorrow, rage, etc.) in any group of people you immerse yourself within. This can sway a neutral group, or push an already emotional crowd into a frenzy. This influence cannot be traced back to you.
“I place this gift in your hands,” the Mentor adds sternly, “Do not use it poorly, Ira. Your actions, need I remind you, represent us all.”
You'll use it well, you promise, and only when you need it most.
“I expected nothing less,” your teacher nods, “Now, I believe you were wanted in the archives. Best not to keep Howa waiting, correct?”
True. Very true.
>Then I'd better get going
>Are there no writs to attend to?
>I have a question before I leave... (Write in)
>Other
>>45881023
>Then I'd better get going
>>45881023
>>Then I'd better get going
>>45881023
>I have a question before I leave... (Write in)
Are you perhaps guiding the temple in the same manner?
>>45881023
>Then I'd better get going
>>45881081
Using the spell? Or manipulating a mob?
Then you'd better get going, you agree, but there is one last question. This new magic you've learned... he wouldn't happen to be guiding the temple in much the same way, would he? Subtly steering everyone along his image of an ideal path, with magic or just clever words?
“Is that how this appears to you?” the Mentor asks slowly. There might be a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he says this – or a warning glint, “In truth, Ira, I don't believe you would be so easily manipulated. Consider – I grant you all the permission to handle incidents as you see fit, no matter what I perceive to be the ideal outcome. Does that suggest, to you, that I am guiding you all down my own chosen path?”
Maybe not, you admit, but perhaps these small freedoms open the way to a greater manipulation. If you can't trace the magic – or the clever words - back to a source, you argue, how can you be sure?
“Ira,” a strange sadness enters the Mentor's voice here, “I dearly wish I could be sure about anything. Now, please, I wish to return to my meditations.”
The issue isn't quite settled, you realise, but you let it lie. That nameless sadness is what makes up your mind – some grounds, you'd rather not tread upon. Once more assailed by heavy thoughts, you turn and wander out of the Mentor's chambers, forging a path down to the archives. Howa, you assume, would be at the front desk. Easier to find, in either case, than whoever else might be looking for you.
As it happens, you're not quite right – Howa is standing, her back to you, at the front desk. At the sound of your approaching footsteps, she snaps out a few angered words.
“Sanae, is that you?” she barks, “You filed several of the books back in the wrong shelves again. Honestly, what good is a-”
Sanae, you ask, who's that?
[1/2]
>>45881291
“Ira?” Howa gasps, wheeling around so quickly that her false leg can't quite keep up with her. Dropping her walking stick, she stumbles and falls into you. Making the most of the situation, she turns her tumble into a tight and clinging embrace. “Ira, I was so worried!” she cries, “I heard about what happened, and... and with everything else that's been going on, I thought...” She clings to you just long enough for the moment to become awkward before you prise her free. Even so, she keeps a hand on your shoulder – to steady herself, you assume.
“You never wrote,” she accuses you, a smile crossing her trembling lips, “Not even a quick note!”
You were busy, you insist, really very busy. There wasn't really time to write. Not quite the truth, but Howa doesn't need to know that.
“Bah,” stooping, Howa grasps her walking stick and pulls herself back up to her feet, “You just wanted me to worry, didn't you? Well, congratulations – it worked.”
Hey, you begin in an attempt to change the subject, she never answered your question. Who is this Sanae, anyway?
“Oh, my new assistant,” Howa shrugs, “Someone to file books away, really. She's a bit of a scatterbrain, to be honest. Good heart, but... Hey, don't try and get out of this so easily!”
>Sorry Howa. I'll keep you in the loop next time
>Listen, has there been anything going on here? Anything unusual?
>Spare me the lecture. I'm leaving
>Was there another girl here, asking after me?
>Other
>>45881433
>Sorry Howa. I'll keep you in the loop next time
>Listen, has there been anything going on here? Anything unusual?
Then
>Was there another girl here, asking after me?
>>45881433
>>Sorry Howa. I'll keep you in the loop next time
>>Listen, has there been anything going on here? Anything unusual?
Talk about clingy.
Sorry Howa, you say in what you hope is a suitably chastised voice, you'll be sure to keep her in the loop next time.
“That's all I'm asking for, just a bird sent my way letting me know you're alive,” Howa's face softens, “Allow me this one weakness, won't you? With these murders, I didn't know what to think. Almost fifty dead – is it really so silly to worry that you might have been one of them?”
It'll take a little more than that to kill you, you brag in an attempt to lift the mood. It must work, because Howa's lips tilt up into a kindly smile, even as she shakes her head and lets out a weary sigh. So anyway, you ask, has there been anything interesting going on at the Nameless Temple? Anything unusual?
“Hmm, unusual? Nothing like that – no more ghosts, in case you were wondering,” Howa glances up at the ceiling as she thinks, “Maybe we've already seen what we were meant to see. Ah, but there was something – those ruins that were unearthed. Progress on putting together an expedition has been slow, and the information Garl sent us contradicts itself half the time. First, the local hillfolk deny all knowledge of the ruins, but then they issue dire warnings to stay away. I trust Garl's judgement, but I hope he knows what he's doing.”
He's as old as the mountains themselves, you remark, he'll be fine as long as he doesn't try going for a hike. The Emperor is still involved with this?
“Yes,” Howa doesn't sound particularly pleased about that, “He's sent some soldiers to guard the ruins. They found an entrance, I think, in a cave. He doesn't any looters, so... armed guards. Anyway, that's what people here were talking about, until news of the Dragon's Head Massacre came in. That's what they're calling it now, apparently.”
Not an inappropriate name, you admit.
[1/2]
>>45881739
Listen, you ask before the mood can grow too heavy, was there anyone else here asking after you? A girl, perhaps?
“Maybe,” Howa looks evasive for a moment, “I can't be expected to keep track of everyone that comes through here, or all their meaningless little requests.”
Raising an eyebrow at that, you merely fix Howa with your gaze until she relents.
“Fine, fine!” waving her free hand in front of her face, Howa hobbles back to her desk and sits heavily, “There was that little sparrow here, the one with the newspaper. First she was asking after you, and then she wanted to see some old maps. I sent her in the right direction, and I've not seen her since. I assume she's still there.”
Old maps? What would Aya want with old maps?
“How should I know?” Howa shrugs violently, “Maybe she just wanted an excuse to lurk here. Go and chase her out of here, won't you?”
>I'll... go and see what she wants
>Is there a problem between you two?
>Soon. I've got one last question... (Write in)
>Other
>>45881739
>Almost fifty dead
Woah, didn't know it had gotten that bad.
>>45881753
>>I'll... go and see what she wants
Heh
>>45881753
>Is there a problem between you two?
I mean she is a pain sometimes but she's helped me out a lot on some of my cases.
>>45881753
>Is there a problem between you two?
>>45881753
>>I'll... go and see what she wants
>>Is there a problem between you two?
You suppose you'll go and see what she wants then, you sigh. But, is there some problem between the two of them? Aya can be a bit of a pain sometimes, true, but sometimes she's been a lot of help. What, then, is Howa's problem?
“Oh, I don't know,” Howa sighs, “She's too damn cheerful, I suppose. Besides,” a disapproving sniff, here, “I just know she's here for some sensationalist garbage, some lurid article about the massacre. Honestly, how low can one person get? Don't tell her anything, Ira, you'll only encourage her – just show her the door, if you please.”
You'll see what she wants, you repeat. Leaving Howa to stew in her own inexplicable fury, you head off into the archive shelves to search out the map section. For someone apparently interested in writing lurid stories, you can't quite imagine why she'd be looking at old maps. Not for something as simple as the location of the Dragon's Head, surely?
Coming round the corner, you spot the young reporter, her head buried in a thick tome and her face set in a mixture of determination and confusion. She's not just killing time – this is real research. Before you approach, you consider what to keep secret and what to reveal. Tawn was quite careful to keep information about Miura's capture from leaking out, and you're not so keen on telling the journalist about a greater conspiracy. Some things are best kept under wraps, for the time being at least.
With that in mind, you approach and sit opposite Aya, fighting back a smile as she jerks upright. “It's you!” she declares, before hastily lowering her voice, “I wasn't sure if you'd ever show up. Neither was your friend at the desk.”
Well, you're here now. So...
“So,” Aya beams, “I've got a hot tip for you.”
>Let's hear it
>What do old maps have to do with it?
>Howa doesn't think much of you, you know
>Other
>>45882049
>Let's hear it
>>45882049
>Let's hear it
>What do old maps have to do with it?
>>45882049
>>Let's hear it
>>What do old maps have to do with it?
This had better be good.
>>45882049
>>Let's hear it
A tip, you consider, that has something to do with old maps. Go on then, you're ready for it.
“Alright, the maps. I'll get to those in a moment,” Aya gets a glint in her eye as she uncovers a well used notebook, “Up in the north, north-east kind of way, there's a new town called Pit Progress. The Emperor had it founded because of his train fetish – there's iron ore in the mountains and stone suitable for building with. So, he set up a new town to dig it all out. Only problem is, there are a lot of protesters gathering to complain about, well, basically everything.”
Okay, you say slowly, following her so far. When does this become a case, though?
“They've been keeping it quiet, keeping word from getting out,” Aya frowns at the idea, “But I hear that a protester – or possibly one of the local workers, the stories vary – was shot dead by one of the guards. The situation is very tense at the moment, and it could get worse very easily. So, this is where you come in. Rumour has it that the victim didn't die straight away – before he croaked, he said something about “god lies at the heart of the mountain”. The interesting thing about that, though, is that there was no god recorded there before. No town, in fact, and no people at all.”
Frowning, you start to see why Aya brought this to you. It could be a new god – like Melancholia in Solitude. So, you ask a moment later, why the old maps?
“I was looking to see if, maybe, there was an old town there once,” Aya shrugs, “With an old god that might have woken up again. If there is, though, it's REALLY old. These maps don't mention anything. C'mon chief, this has got to be your kind of thing, right?”
>It sure is. Let's hit the road
>Maybe. I'd need to go through proper channels though
>What do you get out of this?
>Sorry Aya, this isn't my job
>Other
>>45882297
>>Maybe. I'd need to go through proper channels though
>>What do you get out of this?
>>45882297
>Maybe. I'd need to go through proper channels though
>>45882297
>>Maybe. I'd need to go through proper channels though
>>What do you get out of this?
>>45882297
>Maybe. I'd need to go through proper channels though
>What do you get out of this?
So maybe you are a little curious, you admit, but you still need to go through the proper channels for these things. That means getting a writ, an official request for help. Besides, you're still not quite sure what Aya is getting out of this. What's her goal here?
“The truth, of course,” she tells you immediately, “There's not much I can do at the moment on my own. The whole town is under military rule, and the local commander is a really hard man to deal with. Hey, I'm just an intrepid reporter, right? But if they're talking about gods and a real Wanderer comes in, he's got to listen to reason!”
Not really, you think doubtfully, not if he's set on keeping you out. So, she's just after a story?
“A man is dead, Ira,” Aya corrects you, “And the Emperor is trying to hush it up. Surely you can't let them get away with this?”
Like you said, you repeat, you'd need to go through all the proper procedures. You don't have the authority to march in and take command of the situation – even if the officer in charge was likely to accept your word. Although, you think suddenly to yourself, if you were to take another “holiday”...
“So, what, can't your boss send you?” Aya asks, pushing the issue as far as it will go, “I mean, he's the proper authority, right? Besides, didn't you hear me? They're keeping word from getting out – of course they've not been able to send for help! Look, I want this story, Ira, but I won't lie to you. Something really doesn't feel right about this. Maybe I'm wrong, I've been wrong before, but I think there's something here – and I don't just mean the threat of a riot if this silence continues.”
A riot, you think suddenly, might result in a lot of dead protesters. A lot of dead faithful, slaughtered at the hands of the Emperor's soldiers – exactly the kind of thing that might push you closer to open conflict.
>Let's take this to the Mentor
>I'm sold. Let's check it out
>Sorry, count me out
>Other
>>45882707
>I'm sold. Let's check it out
>>45882707
>>Let's take this to the Mentor
>>45882707
>Let's take this to the Mentor
>>45882707
>>Let's take this to the Mentor
Kinda tempted to go rogue but we should stick with the by the book approach.
At tempted to go rogue as you are, you know that it would end up being a terrible mistake. Doing this by the book, like you always do, is the best way to approach this. Besides, you'd like to keep the Mentor informed about what's going on in the world – especially matters such as this, where there might be a deeper purpose at work.
Fine, you hear yourself sighing, you'll take this to the Mentor and see what he has to say. If he ends up giving you his blessing, you'll consider the matter further.
“Alright!” Aya pumps her fist, “Another victory for truth and investigative journalism!”
She's really getting fired up about this, even to the point of brushing over all the caution you tried to get across. Shaking your head in despair – she's another one that'll end up getting you in trouble, just like Koa – you settle for leading her out of the archives. As you're leaving, Howa waves sweetly.
“She's not a very good librarian,” Aya murmurs to you, “I asked for maps, and she sent me to the darkest, dustiest corner of the place. When I came back, she acted like she was disappointed – what's up with that?”
You wish you knew, you tell Aya, you really wish you knew. Those are the only words that pass between you until you arrive, once again, at the Mentor's quarters. Taking the first few steps inside, you slowly realise that Aya isn't following you.
“So, uh, so I thought I'd leave this bit to you,” she says with a nervous grin, “Truth be told, chief, your boss kinda scares me. Things should go smoothly without me, right?”
Actually, you think, this is pretty convenient. You can speak about this matter freely, without worrying about Aya getting all kinds of details you'd rather keep quiet. Namely, the suggestion that your cult enemy might be stirring up trouble here. Shrugging, you leave Aya behind and enter the Mentor's domain.
[1/2]
>>45883091
“So, you suspect that these agitators might be involved with our enemies,” the Mentor says, half to himself, after you've explained the situation, “And that they might be driving the situation towards a riot, possibly even another massacre, in order to destabilise the entire region.”
It's only a theory, you state carefully, and not one you're completely sold on. There are plenty of troublemakers out there that don't fit into some greater scheme, and plenty of faithful who are outraged – but peacefully so – and the railroad situation. Nevertheless, you feel that Aya's tip has merit to it, especially with the rumoured mention of a god at the heart of the region's mountains. Something, you suggest, that the miners uncovered? With buried ruins present in the central mountains, is it not possible that there are ancient sites elsewhere in Tenngaru?
“It sounds like you want to investigate this,” the Mentor muses, “For your own sake, as well as ours.”
Well, you admit, it HAS got your curiosity piqued.
“Very well,” your teacher decides, “Go. Investigate this to the full extent of your abilities. If possible, defuse the situation. If you find any information pertaining to our elusive enemies, report back as soon as possible. Good luck, Ira – and stay safe.”
So now you've got permission. What, though, about Aya?
“She brought this to our doorstep,” the ancient man thinks aloud, “Because she trusts you. Cultivate this relationship, Ira, and it may benefit us again. If she desires the truth of this matter, give it to her as best you can – it would make for a fitting reward.”
It's a cynical way of looking at things, but you accept the wisdom of his advice. Bowing, you return to Aya and give her the news.
>We can leave immediately
>Permission denied, I'm afraid
>Other
>>45883250
>We can leave immediately
>>45883250
>>Permission denied, I'm afraid
Nah I'm kidding,
>We can leave immediately
>>45883250
>>We can leave immediately
Permission denied, you lie in a deadpan voice, he shot you down almost immediately.
“That fascist!” Aya cries, “That ancient villain, that enemy of the truth, that-”
You're kidding, you add quickly as you hold up your hands to stem her petulant fury, you were only kidding. You've got his blessing, you tell Aya a second later, so you can leave immediately.
“Yes,” Aya grins at your words, her entire demeanour changing in the space of a single blink, already starting off towards the exit at an unreasonably eager pace, “You're not going to regret this, Ira, I think this is going to be something big. I mean it – big!” The smile only ever actually drops a little when you both reach the stables. “Oh, I suppose I should warn you, it's going to be a long ride. Like I said, the town is up the north-east, and pretty far up that way at that. The roads are bad as well, so I figure we might need to stop over somewhere. Hey, I'm in no hurry though – that town isn't going anywhere, right?”
She's not kidding. When Aya flashes you a crudely sketched map of Tenngaru, you realise just how out of the way Pit Progress really is. Does a place like that really have many people working there?
“Emperor emptied pretty much all the small towns and villages in the area looking for workers,” Aya explains, “Paid them a pittance in advance and marched them out to make a “community” there. I hear they're having a lot of trouble keeping workers though – most of them walk out after a single day at most. Rumour has it, he might be shipping in convicts to do the hard labour. The protests aren't helping though. The whole place could tear itself apart any day now.”
No kidding, you say as you mount up a fresh horse, then maybe there is a need to hurry.
“We get where we need to be,” Aya quotes, “When we need to be there.”
Very profound.
[1/2]
>Please excuse the rough map!
>>45883636
A few hours of riding later, and Aya breaks the intermittent silence. “So, now that we're working together on this, I'm going to give you a few more details,” she begins, “Some of the more focussed stuff, rather than the broad strokes I gave you before. Let me see, where to start...”
The body, you suggest, start with the body.
“Right, good,” Aya pauses again to gather her thoughts, “Okay, so I got this information from a couple of ex-workers. They fled the town pretty fast after this, even though they only got the information second hand. No way of knowing just how reliable this all is – keep that in mind. Anyway, they say that the victim came down from the mountain in the middle of the night. The guard that shot him thought he was a protester – or a saboteur. On closer inspection, though, the victim had already been mutilated.”
Mutilated?
“His eyes were gone, or so they say,” Aya frowns, “I mean, we're getting into scary story territory with that, so I'm not convinced. Although, from what I gather they kept the body out of sight as much as possible. They turned it over to the local doctor quickly, and disposed of it just as quick. The doctor, by the way, is the one that “spoke” with the dying victim.”
Speaking with the doctor, in that case, would be a good start.
“Just as I thought. Good work, chief!” Aya flashes you a wink, “Other locals of note... ah, the protests seem to be led by one Tobin Hayasa, a self-styled poet and professional agitator. He's making a lot of noise and pretending to be important, but he's the one to talk with if you're looking for the opposing viewpoint. After that, I guess we could go straight to the local captain. Uh... captain Kurasu, I think his name is. Hard man, like I said. Any questions?”
>I've got a question... (Write in)
>Nope, no questions
>Other
>>45883756
>I've got a question... (Write in)
You think they'll have issues with a Wanderer getting in their business?
>>45883756
>>I've got a question... (Write in)
"So where would you start looking?"
Does she think that these people – both the captain and the protesters – will have any problem with a Wanderer sticking his nose in? Sometimes, you admit, you don't get the warmest welcome.
“I guess there might be some friction,” Aya shrugs, “The captain just wants to keep the shipments of stone and iron ore moving out, and the protesters basically want the opposite. So, picking a side might make you some enemies. That said, I expect there's a fair section of the population that just wants a quiet life – you'd make some friends if you got everyone to sit down and shut up. If things get much worse, though, I can imagine them taking any help they'd get. I mean, if gods are involved you're the expert, right?”
True, you acknowledge, you are the expert. Still, in the spirit of sharing information, where would she start if she was in your position?
“The doctor,” Aya decides immediately, as if she's considered this exact question, “Closest thing to both a neutral and first hand source of information we've got. I'd like to track down the guard that actually shot the victim, but that's likely a lost cause. Kurasu is probably aiming to keep his identity as secret as possible – don't want to risk a lynching, right?”
A lynching, you say drily, is far from ideal. Her idea, head straight to the doctor, sounds like a good one. The main problem you can imagine is-
“Access, right?” Aya interrupts, “I mean, he works for Kurasu, so it might be difficult getting the man to talk. Honestly, I'd look for an assistant or something like that – they tend to be softer targets. Little tip, there, from someone with experience in these things.”
Well, you say with a thin smile, this isn't your first investigation either.
[1/2]
>>45884136
After stopping overnight in a roadside inn – watery beer, uninspiring stew and itchy sheets – you waste little time in completing your journey. Almost immediately, as soon as the town comes into view, you get the idea that something is very wrong in Pit Progress. The mountain, a rather unimpressive thing compared with more recent offerings, shrouds the town in shadow while the buildings look just about ready to collapse. They were probably thrown up in a hurry, you assume, and without much care.
Next, you spot the protesters gathered around the town, nearly every one of them carrying a painted sign. A few slogans stand out, none of which sound particularly welcoming - “You will be judged!” is a common one, with “Your sins shall be known!” matching it in popularity. At least the thin crowd passes to let your horses through, and they don't throw anything worse than curious glances your way. No hostility yet – that tends to come later.
Inside the town itself, you see posters and scrawled graffiti everywhere, vandalism that the guards just can't be bothered to deal with. In fact, the only guards you see are few and far apart – and every one of them looks terrified, disgusted or both. Further in, you see a larger group of guards blocking off access to the mountain itself, or rather the pass leading up into the mines. Bolstered by their numbers, those guards look considerably braver.
“Nice place,” Aya mutters, “I got a description of Tobin – long hair, all blond and pretty – but I didn't see him in the crowd, did you?”
If he was there, you tell her, you missed him. Maybe he decided to stay at home today.
“Maybe,” Aya frowns, “But then... a body taken away and quickly disposed of. A missing protest leader. You see where I'm going with this?”
>We should ask his mob
>Check at his house, maybe?
>Stick with the doctor for now
>Time to speak with the captain
>Other
>>45884310
>Stick with the doctor for now
>>45884310
>>Stick with the doctor for now
>>45884310
>>Stick with the doctor for now
He would know who the victim was.
The doctor would be able to give you the identity of the body, you tell Aya, assuming you can get him to talk. You don't want to risk approaching the mob just yet – it would be too easy, you point out, to be mistaken for government men chasing after a known agitator. Maybe he got spooked and went into hiding – for a good reason, perhaps.
“Yeah, that's a point,” Aya agrees, glancing back at the crowd of protesters as if expecting them to turn and devour you both at any minute, “Let me see, it was doctor... doctor Sonoah, I believe. I guess we just look for-”
The sign with “doctor” painted on it, you suggest as you point to a slightly sturdier building, would probably be a good place to start. Shaking your head in vague amusement, you lead the way and listen to Aya's hasty footsteps as she chases after you. She almost seems disappointed that there isn't some grand criminal conspiracy to uncover. Well, she might yet get her wish. Putting the worst case scenario from your mind, you knock firmly on the doctor's door.
“Come in, then,” a surly voice calls from within, “No sense in bleeding all over my doorstep, so make yourself at home. Bleed all over the floor in here instead!”
Doctors, you think to yourself as you enter, always seem a little... off to you. The man himself is dressed all in white, a few errant spot of blood vivid against his apron and gloves. Spotting you, he sizes you up for a moment.
“Just old age,” he grunts, “Nothing I can do about it. I'd prescribe some whisky, but you look like the type to self-medicate anyway.”
There's not much you can say to that.
“Couldn't say what her problem is,” Sonoah says as he glances across at Aya, “I don't have all day after all. This isn't a medical matter, is it?”
>I wanted to ask you about a recent body. You can probably guess which one
>Do you know where Tobin is?
>What's your opinion on the protesters?
>Other
>>45884723
>I wanted to ask you about a recent body. You can probably guess which one
>Do you know where Tobin is?
>What's your opinion on the protesters?
>>45884723
>I wanted to ask you about a recent body. You can probably guess which one
>Do you know where Tobin is?
>>45884723
>>I wanted to ask you about a recent body. You can probably guess which one
>>Other
"Is this the first body you've examined lately?"
You wanted to ask him about a recent body he might have examined, you begin calmly, he probably knows which body you're talking about.
Sonoah grunts, twitching his head towards what might be an office. A single room, penned off from the rest of his “office.” Sitting behind a desk, he rummages in a drawer and pulls out a clay jug. The good doctor, it seems, is not above a little self-medication either. Generously filling three cups, shapeless things, he pushes two across to you. You don't sit – there's only one chair, and Sonoah has it claimed.
“I know what you're talking about,” the doctor groans, his voice as rough and raw as the alcohol he just threw back, “Wish I didn't though. Up until the Emperor moved me here, I was just a simple village doctor. I treated broken bones and minor illnesses. Herbal treatments mostly, that's all I had access to. What was I supposed to do when they brought in some scrawny outside, screeching like a wounded cat. He had a rifle shot in his stomach – have you ever seen what that does to a man?”
Once or twice, you admit, and it's never pleasant.
“Damn right,” Sonoah refills his cup – not for the first time tonight, you suspect, “He was practically curled up in a ball, so I had the guard that brought him here hold him down. Straighten him out. That's when I saw it – his eyes, gone!”
Define... “gone”.
“Clawed out,” Sonoah mimes the act of raking his fingers down his face, “And I'm certain that he did it to himself. Worst thing about it though... I swear on every god in this land that he saw me. He SAW me! He looked right at me and laughed, said... “God lies at the heart of the mountain”, those were his exact words.”
That's when Aya takes a drink. She doesn't stop until her cup is empty.
“I know,” Sonoah grunts, “That's what I thought.”
[1/2]
>>45885142
So he said the corpse... the victim was an outsider. Not someone he recognised, then?
“No, I couldn't have named the man. These days, we get a lot of people coming and going,” Sonoah shrugs, “I wish I could be one of the ones going. Kurasu has someone watching me, I'm sure of it. He needs a doctor here.”
Speaking of people that Kurasu might be watching out for, you don't suppose the doctor knows where Tobin is? Or, perhaps, where Tobin might have gone?
“That streak of piss?” Sonoah grunts, “If he isn't hiding out in his mother's house, I don't know where he might be. Wandering through the wilderness like he used to, I suppose – I've seen more of him than I ever wanted to. Poison ivy on the-”
That's all you wanted to know, you interrupt, so he doesn't know where the protester might be?
“Not a damn clue,” the doctor sighs, “Ah, he's an idiot but I hope he shows up. His mother is a sweet old thing, and she adores the lad. I'd hate to see her upset over something like this.”
It sounds, you suggest, like he doesn't have a very high opinion of Tobin. What about the protesters in general?
“They don't like the Emperor much, and neither do I. Are you secret police? I don't give much of a shit if you are – arrest me if you like. I don't hold much with this sin and judgement stuff, but at least they believe in something,” Sonoah sips his drink this time, “All Kurasu believes in is money and control. Things like “human lives” don't mean much to him.”
That body, you ask slowly, is it the only one he's examined?
“Not even slightly,” Sonoah shakes his head, “Men from the mines. Blackened lungs, shattered skulls, twisted limbs... it's a horror show down here. That's what “progress” looks like, I guess.”
Standing abruptly, Aya rushes from the room. You both watch her flee before exchanging a shrug. Kids these days, that shrug seems to say.
[2/3]
>>45885267
“Sorry, sorry,” Aya gasps when you catch up with her, “I just needed some fresh air. I feel much better now, I promise!”
Well, you say, at least you've got some pretty good information to get started. Tobin is alive, Kurasu is a bastard, and Sonoah is the kind of guy you'd like to drink with again. That's more information than you usually get in a single conversation.
“Hah,” Aya forces a weak laugh, “I guess I'm not so jaded about this kind of thing yet. All this talk of blood and guts is a bit much, right? Anyway chief, what do you think? Where should we visit next?”
>I want to speak with the protesters directly
>Finding Tobin is our best bet
>I hate to admit it, but Kurasu might have information
>I want to ask Sonoah a few final questions first (Write in)
>Other
>>45885372
Doc you see anyone about wearing a real bright steel ring?
>>45885372
>Finding Tobin is our best bet
If he has explored the wilderness around here, he might know places of interest our victim might have went to.
>>45885372
>>Finding Tobin is our best bet
>>I want to ask Sonoah a few final questions first (Write in)
Any truth to the rumors that there are convicts working the mines?
Hold on, you tell Aya, just wait here a few minutes. Sticking your head back through Sonoah's office door, you call his name.
“Still old!” he calls back, diagnosing you in an instant, “No more free drinks either!”
Crazy old bastard. Hey, you ask him, has he seen anyone around here with a steel ring? That would probably be the only thing he remembers about the person wearing it – just the ring itself.
“Can't say I've seen it,” Sonoah replies after a moment of thought, “I don't know everyone in town though – Kurasu has some “specialists” up in his barracks that nobody sees much. Motivational speakers, I heard him call them once. If I had to guess, I'd say they were the ones cracking the whips down in the mines. Forcing those poor dogs to work themselves to death, without ever having their chains taken off.”
Chains? Is he saying that the rumours of convicts working in the mines are true?
“That's right,” Sonoah gives a heavy, drunken nod, “Criminals from all over, brought here in big wagons. Cages. It's the only way of getting workers that don't turn and flee – or try to claw their own eyes out. That body! I'm glad I was ordered to burn it. Better to be rid of it.”
Thanking him again – although the information is somewhat less welcome this time – you return to Aya and share the new facts with her. She scowls deeply at the mention of slaves and “specialists”, but remains silent. Finally, with a sigh, you suggest starting by seeking out Tobin. If he has a habit of roaming the wilderness, he might know something about the mountains or the region in general.
“Right,” Aya nods once, sullenly, “I guess we're going to visit his mother. No idea where else to start the search.”
[1/2]
>>45885707
“Tobin is a good boy,” the elderly woman, her eyes almost entirely sealed over with a cloudy film, says slowly, “A good boy. I know he gets a little... political, but there's no harm in that. He CARES, not like the other boys his age.”
The woman – Tonah, her name is – is practically a cripple. She can barely walk, and she's almost blind. It's obvious that she relied on Tobin, possibly the only reason the boy wasn't forced into working the mines. As you let her speak, Aya keeps flashing you worried looks, concern written across her features. Trying to get the conversation back on track, you ask again if Tobin has anywhere he likes to go to. You almost say “likes to hide”, but you don't want to give her the wrong idea.
“Oh, I don't know,” Tonah sighs, “He wanders everywhere, to write his poems. They're very good, there's one he wrote... the last one he wrote, actually. He was very proud of it. Oh, I know you'll like it too – he has a book somewhere, he said the cover is red. Could you find it for me? My eyes, you see...”
“Found it,” Aya whispers almost immediately, producing a red book and offering it to you, “It was just here, actually. Let me see, the most recent poem... “I go into the setting sun, into the ancient bounty of history, into the embrace of the forest, into-”, ugh...” Murmuring a vague disgust, she shakes her head and sticks her tongue out. Not good.
“Beautiful, don't you agree?” Tonah smiles fondly, “He writes about all the things he finds, just wandering out there.”
Taking the book from Aya, you skim the last poem. Then you stop, a single phrase leaping out at you - “Into the palm of god”. That sounds like a temple, or some kind of sacred site.
>Looks like we've got our directions
>Aya, what do you make of this?
>I had a question for you, Tonah (Write in)
>Other
>>45885919
>>Looks like we've got our directions
Though
>>Aya, what do you make of this?
>>45885919
>>Looks like we've got our directions
The setting sun. That's west isn't it?
Looks like you've got your directions, you mutter across to your investigative partner, but is there anything she has to add?
“I don't think so,” she decides, shaking her head, “We just need to search the forest to the west, right? And there should be something... historical there?”
Ruins, you theorise, somewhere that he might have used as a shelter while he was working on his... art. He might not have even realised what it was at first, but at least he was kind enough to leave you good directions. You're just lucky, you remark, that he doesn't favour a more abstract style.
“You're not trying to get him in any trouble, are you?” Tonah asks suddenly, her voice growing shrill, “You're not going to hurt him?”
“We're going to bring him back to you,” Aya soothes, taking the initiative, “We want him to be safe just as much as you do. It wouldn't be fair for his, ah, art to be cut off in its prime, would it?”
“He's a good boy,” Tonah repeats softly, sleep creeping into her voice, “Tell him... tell him I'm worried, won't you?”
You'll do that, you promise as the eldely woman dozes softly, you'll take good care of him. Then, with a nod to Aya, you quietly slip from the house. Closing the door slowly, you turn around to face a crowd of unwelcoming faces. Harsh eyes are fixed upon you, nearly a dozen of the larger, burlier members of the protest group encircling you. Their signs, you notice, have been replaced by cudgels and knives. Asking too many questions, it seems, draws the wrong kind of attention around here.
Gentlemen, you say brightly as you face the mob, what seems to be the problem?
>I'll end this here for tonight, I think. Next thread on Friday, and I'll stick around for a while in case of any questions
>>45886279
Uh oh.
Thanks for running Moloch.
>>45886406
The palm of god in the forest, but the god itself in the heart of the mountain. But all this activity on the other side of the land, away from the supposed hidden factories...
These insurgents don't.....already have their OWN subway, do they?
I should note that coal mines really were horrid deals. Between the coal dust in your lungs, the extreme heat deep in the tunnels, risks of explosion, and constant dehydration, the death toll really ticks up. I read once that even if they didn't sent kids to the mines, they had them man these shutters to keep airflow circulating inside, but this exposed them to their fair share of coal dust as well.
Now I'm not saying it's the Emperor's fault, you can't micromanage EVERYTHING, but there is the responsibility to fix it. This sort of desperation and despair is also plenty seedbed to birth a new god, in any case.
>>45886406
>>45886727
uhh, wrong link, meant to link >>45886279
but you get the idea.
Although I wonder if we need to dig up some gauntlets to strangle a nightmare again.
>>45886727
I think the end result of this one might come as quite a surprise, but obviously I can't say much more than that. Not yet, at least!
>>45886406
>Uh oh.
Just an angry mob, nothing to be worried about!
