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The speech, to Sunao's great dismay, was cancelled.
Too dangerous, Holm had said, too much risk when an unknown number of cultists were still at large. Sunao had continued to protest in a rather weak, half-hearted way for a while longer before the stress of the day finally caught up with him and caused him to faint dead away. Then, at long last, you got some peace and quiet.
Of course, that entire debate happened after you had finally returned to the temple. Once Manabu was dead, and the danger passed, the military swooped in to take control of the situation. Escorted out of their new cordon, you met up with Koa and Howa. With the military stopping them from even approaching the marketplace, all they could do was listen as you dealt with Manabu. At least he was the only one who died. His hostage, Toraji, was unharmed.
Shaken, of course, but that's nothing unusual. Day to day life, you've noticed, is enough to leave him shaken.
>>47231836
Night fell without ceremony, but you suspect that few people in the Dragon's Head will be sleeping soundly. For one thing, the stillness of the night is occasionally pierced by the crack of rifle shots, the military hunting down the last of the cultists. Every one of those shots marks an act of resistance, a pilgrim who had chosen death over surrender. Was there cause really worth dying for, you silently ask the night, or were they just forced into a corner? Faced with his plans – poorly thought out as they were – crumbling around him, Manabu had taken desperate action. Why should his followers be any different?
There will be no answers for you – not tonight, and not here. This wasn't some scheme years in the making, this was a blind and foolish attack, driven by desperation. Having abandoned the Seer, Manabu had wagered everything on this. He wagered everything, and he lost.
“Tea?” the voice from behind you snaps you back to reality. It's Toraji, a clay cup in his extended hand. As you take it, he sits beside you on the temple steps. “I've, uh, I've been looking for you.”
Well, he's found you. You're sorry, you add with a wry smile, about his speech.
“Probably for the best,” Torji shrugs, “I don't think it's going to matter much now anyway. We've been summoned – you, me and Sunao, I mean. Lord Lapis has, uh, requested our presence. Normally, this would be when he gives his judgement, but...”
But, you repeat, but what?
“Well, I suppose I've, uh, accepted it. Failing, I mean,” a calm smile, slightly sad, touches Toraji's lips, “I'm alive, so I don't mind if I spend the rest of my life sweeping the floors here. No matter what happens, I've got you to thank for that.”
>Not just me, Sunao and that bird of his played their part
>You think you've failed?
>Come on, let's find Sunao and meet with Lapis
>Other
>>47231843
>You think you've failed?
Toraji, without you pointing Manabu out to me things would have been a lot worse. So thank YOU.
>Come on, let's find Sunao and meet with Lapis
>>47231843
>Not just me, Sunao and that bird of his played their part
As did you. Don't sell yourself short.
>Come on, let's find Sunao and meet with Lapis
>>47231843
>>You think you've failed?
>>Come on, let's find Sunao and meet with Lapis
>>Other
"If it was up to me, you'd already be worthy."
Covering up your surprise at the boy's reaction – not just his claims of failure, but his calm acceptance of defeat – with a sip of tea, you take a moment to think of an answer. He thinks he's failed, you point out, is that it?
“Well, we... we didn't really do much, did we?” Toraji shakes his head, “Nothing that proves our worth, at least. This is hardly the time to be making grand speeches or trying to rally the people behind us. So, Lord Lapis won't really have good reason to reward us, will he?”
Things would have been a lot worse without him helping you find Manabu, you mention, so you owe him thanks as well. It was a brave thing he did, putting himself in danger for you, and he wasn't the only one to risk himself. Sunao played his part, him and that bird of his. They shouldn't think of selling themselves short – if it was up to you, they would have proved their worth already. Of course, you don't have the final say, but you can certainly argue in their favour.
“You'd do that?” Toraji's eyes grow wide, “Yeah... I guess you would. I mean, thanks – but it's Sunao who should be worried about this. I don't know what the head priest would do if Lord Lapis found Sunao unworthy...”
Then you'll just have to see what Lapis has to say about them both, you announce as you finish the last of your tea, before deciding whether or not to worry. Come on, you add, time to find Sunao. With a little luck, he'll have recovered from that fainting spell of his.
“I, uh, I did check on him earlier,” Toraji confirms, “He was awake. Said he was fine, you know? Just all the, uh... well, he said he was fine.”
Lead the way then, you tell him, there's just one short stop you want to make first.
[1/2]
>>47232112
It is custom for all temples to offer hospitality to travelling priests, Wanderers included, and the temple at the Dragon's Head is no different. A fairly large common room, split off from the main area of the temple, is lined with rows of mats for resting upon. Leaning around the doorway, you peer into the gloom just long enough to make out Howa and Koa, both enduring a light and troubled sleep.
“I'm surprised they can sleep at all,” Toraji admits as you're leaving them to their rest, “I mean, uh, with all the... gunfire and all.”
It's something you get used to, you mention, although you're never quite sure if gunfire is something you should have to get used to.
“Oh...” a pause, “I always thought being a priest was a quiet life. I mean, that was before all this...” Toraji's glum words die off when he catches sight of Sunao, pacing back and forth outside his room. Holm's heir still looks a little off-colour – his cheeks are particularly grey – and his restless pace speaks much of the anxiety churning within him. Toraji might have accepted the idea of failure, but Sunao is nowhere near as calm.
“Oh, why did they have to choose today for their grubby little rebellion?” he whines as you reach him, “Don't they realise how inconvenient they're being?”
Glancing your way, Toraji shakes his head slightly and gives you a tiny shrug. No point in arguing with a hopeless case, that shrug seems to say. “C'mon, it's not the end of the world,” he offers, trying to placate his fellow novice, “We don't know that we've failed yet, do we?” He casts another glance at you then, as if seeking your support.
[2/3]
>>47232180
It's too early to say for sure, you add, but you'll be sure to speak up for them if it comes to that.
“Very good, very good...” Sunao tries to smile, but it comes out ghastly, more like a grimace, “Any last advice you might have to give, teacher?”
>You're meeting with a god. Be humble
>Just calm down and have a little self-confidence
>If you truly deserve this role, Lapis will judge you accordingly
>Are you sure you want to go through with this? It's not too late to change your mind
>I've done all I can. This next part is up to you
>Other
>>47232190
>Just calm down and have a little self-confidence
>If you truly deserve this role, Lapis will judge you accordingly
"Remember. You both came through during a REAL incident. I think that speaks louder than a nice speech. Good luck you two."
>>47232190
>Just calm down and have a little self-confidence
>>47232190
>>You're meeting with a god. Be humble
>>Just calm down and have a little self-confidence
"I might be contradicting myself her but be humble, and don't forget to show some backbone. A Priest that does nothing but agree and bow and scrape is worthless."
Just calm down, you suggest, and have a little self-confidence. Holm's grandfather liked to preach a few virtues, you remind the pair, what were they?
“Resolve, certainty, surety of purpose,” Sunao replies immediately, the words rattling off his tongue with practised ease. Just from the sound of them, you realise how often he must have been told the same stories, the same sayings that Holm, you don't doubt, was taught. “You're right, yes,” a real smile finally takes shape on Sunao's lips, “We have to believe in ourselves before Lord Lapis can put his trust in us.”
But don't go overboard, you add, a little humility is important when meeting with a god. Not too much – a priest that does nothing but bow and scrape is of no worth – but enough that they don't boast and fall prey to arrogance. They need backbone, that's the confidence part, and restraint in equal measure.
“This is a lot to keep in mind,” Toraji groans. If anything, he seems to be getting more nervous – the faint spark of hope you gave him breaking apart that calm acceptance he had tried so hard to cultivate.
Just remember, you tell them, Lapis will judge them accordingly. If they truly deserve a place among his chosen priests, he'll recognise that. They've both proven themselves during a real incident, and that says a lot more about them than a fancy speech ever could. That's it then, you finish, good luck.
“No,” Toraji murmurs as you reach the great statue that looms over the entrance to Lapis' inner domain, “I don't think we'll need luck.”
Sunao grimaces a little as he stoops down and slides into the water, soaking the fine garments that he foolishly chose to wear, but he wastes no time in forging ahead up the river. Toraji follows, taking to the water with greater dignity as you bring up the rear. Time to meet their god.
[1/2]
>>47232402
The cavern leading to Lapis' domain seems longer this time, compared with the last time you braved the waters to meet with the great dragon. It takes you a moment to figure out why – the river is flowing quicker now, pushing against your efforts to move forwards. Lapis must be in a bad mood, you think to yourself, either that or he's giving the pair of novices one last challenge to overcome. Toraji doesn't let the waters still his progress – he fights on ahead with neither complaints nor hesitation – but Sunao is obviously struggling. Yet, he never asks for help or shows any sign of giving up, no matter how slow his progress grows.
You're actually impressed. More than once, it looks as though he will fall or let the current carry him back to the comforts of the temple, but he always finds some fresh reserve of strength. Then, with one final push forwards, the current evens out and you find yourselves standing in a great hollow, dimly lit by a shimmering light that seems to come from the water itself. Rising up out of the water, the great from of Lapis, the Azure Dragon, looms over you. He doesn't speak straight away, merely gliding through the air and circling the three of you.
“Two novices come before me,” he intones, “Both bearing their claims of worth. You, Wanderer, you were given the task of evaluating them – how would you weigh their claims? Have they earned their place in my priesthood?”
>They have both shown great bravery. Their worth is beyond dispute
>Sunao has proven his worth to me
>Toraji has proven his worth to me
>They have failed in their task, proving themselves unworthy
>Other
>>47232539
>They have both shown great bravery. Their worth is beyond dispute
>>47232539
>They have both shown great bravery. Their worth is beyond dispute
They have their quirks, but with time I believe they can overcome them.
>>47232539
>>They have both shown great bravery. Their worth is beyond dispute
I think we should also mention that Sunao didn't just fall back on his family to prove himself.
>>47232539
>They have both shown great bravery. Their worth is beyond dispute
"Toraji found resolve where he previously had none. And Sunao didn't rely on his family name to achieve this. They earned it."
>>47232539
>>They have both shown great bravery. Their worth is beyond dispute
Like stones they both have thier rough edges, but those can be worn smooth in time, no?
They have both shown great bravery, you declare, their worth is beyond dispute.
“Indeed?” Lapis rumbles, his sinuous body coiling a little tighter around the three of you as he continues to glide lazily through the air. He could bite his tail now, if he so wished, and close the circle that now surrounds you. The three of you wait for him to continue, a ripple in the water around Sunao's feet the only hint of his nervous tremors. “I have watched you with great interest, both of you.”
Neither of them are flawless, you add, but their quirks can be overcome in time. Toraji has shown great resolve and loyalty to the Dragon's Head – turning away from the offer of seizing power through rebellion – while Sunao refused to fall back on his family's good name as a measure of his worth. Rough edges, you admit, but a river can smooth those out in tiime.
“Indeed,” Lapis repeats, “It is time for you to learn the truth, as all who face my judgement must. For, the truth of this matter is simple – I am no judge.”
Silence. The stunned pause that follows these words is so great that you can hear the distant sound of water lapping against rock. Then, at long last, Sunao finds his tongue. “That's not right!” he insists, “You have to be! If you're not here to judge our worth, then... then...”
“Quiet!” Toraji snaps, “Just... just listen for a moment, will you?”
“In facing this challenge, you sought to prove your worth,” Lapis explains, never halting his motions for a second, “And in seeking to prove your worth, you faced the question – what is “worth”, and how can it be proven? Is it strength, to be proven by setting one's self against nature? Is it leadership, to be proven by the love and support of the people? Or is it courage, to be proven by facing a god with nothing but your name?”
[1/2]
>>47232784
You listen in silence, a slight smile touching your lips. Ever since Holm first gave you this task, you had been wondering what the catch was, what the real test might be. It seemed too simple, somehow, for everything to have been as it first seemed.
“Normally, the act of proving one's worth is merely ceremonial, a way for young novices to find their own path in life,” Lapis continues, “But you two have gone beyond ritual and tradition – your path led you to action and great deeds. Your lives were put at risk in defence of this temple. As such, no man may ever dispute your worth – those that do, do so in open defiance of my will. Accept my blessing, young priests, and know that when you return to my temple, you shall be novices no longer!”
It's a fine moment, but the victorious mood doesn't have the chance to last very long. Sunao, midway through a bright and proud smile, wilts away into a fresh fainting spell. Toraji is quick to catch him, but the damage is done. At least Sunao waited until now to pass out – it would be hard to pronounce him worthy when he's draped over Toraji's shoulder in a stupor.
“Not to appear ungrateful for your blessing, Lord Lapis,” Toraji apologises, “But, uh, I think I should probably...”
“You both deserve rest,” the dragon nods, his great head bobbing in the air, “Take your fellow priest, and return with your head held high. Remember – let no man dispute your worth!” As you're moving to help Toraji leave, the god speaks once more. “Wanderer,” he rumbles, “Stay. We have matters to discuss.”
That's certainly true. Letting Toraji lurch out through the tunnel, you turn back to Lapis. When you are alone, the dragon begins to speak.
“Tradition can be tiresome,” Lapis admits, “But it has purpose nonetheless.”
>It's corrupt. Holm and his family are harming your temple
>I see now. It's a good lesson for the young novices
>It's just a waste of time
>Can this test be failed?
>Other
>>47232908
>I see now. It's a good lesson for the young novices
>>47232908
>>I see now. It's a good lesson for the young novices
>Can this test be failed?
>You may have to remind Holm that just because Sunao is family, does not mean he is ready or capable to be head priest one day.
>>47232908
>I see now. It's a good lesson for the young novices
>Other
"How are you doing Lapis? It's been a rough (month/few weeks) for all of us."
Moloch how long has it been since we started this quest? It's hard to account for travel time.
>>47232967
>I couldn't give you a length of time off the top of my head, but I could probably work it out. It could take some time, though, so I won't be able to do it right now. Sorry for being vague!
>>47232908
>Can this test be failed?
>Other: Do you know anything about the god of Black Rock?
Moloch, have you ever considered putting Sleeping Gods up for review by ReviewAnon?
>>47233028
>ReviewAnon
Isn't he dead?
>>47233037
Might be.
>>47233028
>I did actually consider it, when I was getting started. However, I've not seen them around at all lately, so it might never happen. If they pop up again, though, I think I might ask to be put on their backlog.
>>47233037
>>47233061
I think I've seen them not so long ago.
Their backlog was long though.
>>47233074
Last time I saw them was a few weeks before the /qst/ implementation. Nothing since then.
You see now, you agree, it's a good lesson for the young novices. It teaches them to find their own ideas of worth, of virtue, and it encourages them to be certain in their beliefs. Perhaps it is cloaked in ritual and tradition, but it's still an important practice. You do have one question about it, though.
“As you well might,” a faint note of amusement – strangely human – enters Lapis' voice, “Ask, Wanderer.”
Can this test, you ask slowly, be failed? You heard tell of one of Holm's relatives trying to use his family name as proof, only to be judged as a failure. So, you were wondering what caused him to fail.
“Had he the confidence to stand firm, he would have passed,” Lapis explains slowly, “But his courage failed him. He made his claim, but it was without confidence, without certainty. A name is nothing – but any man who is prepared to wield his name as both sword and shield has indisputable worth. Those who would plead the virtues of their family, with no virtue of their own...”
Would be found unworthy, you finish. It makes sense, but it does raise one other point. Holm needs reminded, you mention, that Sunao is neither ready nor capable of being the newest head priest on the weight of his name alone. In time, the boy may grow into the role, but he may also never be ready. If Holm insists on pushing his son into that role, it could bring disaster to the temple.
“I am reluctant to meddle in the affairs of men,” Lapis admits, “But this is a matter that may, as you have said, bring ruin upon my people. Yes, Holm must be reminded of his duties – his loyalty to his family cannot come before the good of the people. Does that sound harsh, Wanderer? But sometimes a god must be harsh, to prevent a worse fate.”
Perhaps it is harsh, you agree, but it's fair. Then, seeking to bring the conversation back to lighter matters, you ask a new question. How is he doing, you ask Lapis, during these troubled times?
[1/2]
>>47233245
“I feel a great unrest building in the land,” Lapis tells you, a slight note of uncertainty in his voice, “Not the war, of which I am well aware, but something that builds in the north. There are forces, Wanderer, that are preparing to return to your land. I sense this, and it unsettles me.”
Nodens, you think. Nodens sleeps in the north, but he might not sleep for much longer. They are both connected by water – Nodens rules over the seas, while Lapis is the god of the Dragon River – so it's little wonder that Lapis can sense something. Then again, Nodens isn't the only god lurking in the northern seas – there's the bloodstained god of the Black Rock to consider. Does he know anything about it, you ask Lapis, the god of that forlorn island?
“We are cousins,” Lapis admits, in a voice that borders on the defensive, “But I spy him only distantly. He has known many faces, many forms and names over the years, changing them as a serpent sheds its skin. He is war, his guise reflecting the ways in which men seek to destroy one another.”
And why, you press, might Holm's ancestor seek out this god of war?
“To learn,” Lapis explains, “To study. I fear he is not the only one who has sought out my violent cousin – even now, men bow down and pledge themselves to eternal war, although they do not realise it. There will be no end to conflict and strife, if my violent cousin's will is imposed upon the land, for why would a god of war wish for men to find peace?”
A never ending war, slowly grinding out all life – it's exactly as the Seer feared. Now, because of his actions, it's more likely than ever.
“I fear that is all I can offer you,” Lapis adds, “Save for one last piece of advice – do not take any bargain he offers you.”
Sound advice indeed.
>Pay your respects and leave
>Mention the Emperor's visit
>Ask some more questions (Write in)
>Other
>>47233404
>Mention the Emperor's visit
"I managed to convince Sho to possibly take a trip out here and talk to you directly about this whole railroad project. If you guys reach some kind of compromise, it might be a good step towards peace."
"Actually I have to ask. Has anyone actually asked YOU for your opinion on the railroad project? Or was it the priests and other believers making assumptions? What do you think of the project Lapis?"
>>47233461
This. You've stolen this from my mind.
>>47233404
>Mention the Emperor's visit
>>47233404
Is the god of war persona the "good" or the "bad" one currently?
>>47233404
>Mention the Emperor's visit
"Like you said. It's not good for Gods to get too involved with the realms of men. Still, it is good for them to know each other, and I discovered upon meeting him that the Emperor is woefully ignorant of them. He has at best second hand knowledge, so I thought maybe you and him could talk and discuss things. Get to understand each other."
This god of war, you ask, is it civilised – as Lapis is – or does it bear a more primal persona, as Titanos nearly succumbed to? Do such terms even apply to it?
“He has lived his life glutted with human blood,” Lapis growls, “If he can be taught the ways of man, I fear it will be a nigh impossible task. He relishes in the suffering he spreads, and desires little else. Perhaps he could take a new form – of honourable combat, of bravery and heroism – but he has little aspiration for such things. No, Wanderer, I fear he is beyond redemption.”
In a way, you expected that answer. With so many lives offered up on the altar of battle, what hope was there that this warrior god would be anything other than primal and brutal? Shaking your head sadly, you move onto a new matter, that of the Emperor's visit. This is something you've already mentioned to Holm, you begin, but there is a chance that the Emperor might make an Imperial visit to the Dragon's head – possibly even speaking with Lapis himself. Is that something that he finds acceptable, you ask, or is this too much of an imposition?
“The Emperor...” Lapis lets the word roll off his tongue, a hint of a snarl in his voice, “One man who claims authority over the entire land, when even the gods do not make such boasts. He must learn humility.”
His knowledge of the gods is greatly lacking, you explain, and much of it comes from those with a bias against the divine. There should be a distance between the affairs of men and gods, but there must also be an understanding between them. At it stands, the Emperor has no such understanding, and that leads to his outrageous claims. If he could come together with a god like Lapis, perhaps they could find a middle ground.
[1/2]
>>47233695
“If he is not blinded by hubris, perhaps he can be made to see sense,” Lapis muses, “And I too, could benefit from his perspective. You say that he has never touched the divine? Well, I too have never traded words with an Emperor!”
Then they could both benefit, you agree. Discussing their many differences – the Emperor's railroad among them – could pave the way towards compromise. Actually, you remark after a pause, you've got to ask. This railroad... has anyone ever asked for his opinion on it? Holm, the priests and so many others have made their disapproval clear, but you've never heard the dragon's opinion, from his own mouth. What, then, does he have to say about it?
Lapis seems to consider the idea for a long time, his tail dipping low to skim across the surface of the water. “Progress is like a river,” the dragon says slowly, “It flows in one direction only, and only a great force of will can stop it. This railroad will be built in time – even if it must be build on the bones of my followers. Yet, I do not wish to see them killed for such a senseless purpose. I oppose this railroad – and the triumph of man and steel over nature that it represents – but I would not wish for a war to be declared over this opposition.”
You remain silent as you consider Lapis' answer, waiting to see if the god will say more. In a solemn voice, he eventually continues.
“If the flowing tides take me towards this destination,” Lapis intones, “I will fall into a deep sleep. Let men build what they will – the river will remain long after they are dust. In time, perhaps I shall wake once more. I accept this fate, but I fear many of my followers will not, even if it means defying my wishes.”
>Thank you. I shall take your wishes to Holm
>You're a coward. For the good of the land, you must resist
>And if a compromise could be reached?
>Other
>>47233785
>And if a compromise could be reached?
"I don't see any reason why the River can't continue to flow with the train going over it. A few modifications to the project and some effort to keep the river clean after the fact is easily doable. What part of the project do you oppose the most?"
>>47233785
>And if a compromise could be reached?
"That defeatist attitude will not cut it if you have that talk with the Emperor, else he'll just give a list of demands. You both need to have a polite, yet firm discussion about what can be done in the interest of both parties and for the good of the land in the present. Not giving up and waiting for it to all blow over when you wake up."
>>47233853
This.
If they can construct the railroad without polluting or disturbing the flow of the river it should be fine on all sides.
>>47233785
> Compromise
"Why does the bridge have to be a chain upon the river? Why can't it be say a temple and a bridge?"
>>47233785
>And if a compromise could be reached?
How exactly does a railroad put you to sleep? There is already one bridge over the river, so it's probably not that.
What if the road goes through a tunnel under the riverbed, symbolically bowing before the river and thrusting the lives of the passengers into the god's hands?
Quick question dudes
Should we do *that*
Thanks.
>>47234092
Eh not sure how I feel about putting lives in God's hands when they can get potentially corrupted.
>>47234092
Isnt that just kowtowing to Lapis? Also wouldn't going under have more chance in damaging the river on top of how much work it would take?
>The next post is taking a little longer to write than I expected, but I hope to have it up soon. Your patience is appreciated!
>Also, a quick note. At the moment, this is just exchanging ideas. Anything we propose now shouldn't be taken as definite.
And what, you ask, if a compromise could be reached?
“That would be ideal,” Lapis actually chuckles slightly at that, the deep sound causing the water around you to ripple, “Yet I wonder how prepared the Emperor will be to surrender even a fraction of his precious ideals.”
He won't budge an inch, you insist, not if Lapis keeps up that defeatist attitude. Without any opposition, he'll just give a list of his demands and wait for them to be fulfilled – that isn't even close to a compromise. No, they're going to need to have a polite but firm discussion on what's best for the land AND the people. Simply giving up in the hope that the land might be a better place when he wakes won't help. Start by thinking practically, you advise, what's the main problem with building another bridge across the river?
“It is a matter of defiance,” Lapis explains slowly, a hard note of frustration entering his voice as he searches for the right words, “Men have always treated the Dragon River – MY river – with the respect it deserves. Its waters can wash men away when I am enraged, and they can give life when I am calm. Yet this railroad would fly in the face of such a relationship – it encroaches upon the divine, and it does so without reluctance or restraint, without respect or humility. This, I cannot forgive.”
You think back to what the Emperor said about his railroad. It would prove him to be more powerful than the gods, he claimed, by allowing him to cross the land at unmatched speed. True enough, it's an arrogant desire, but there must be a way to make it agreeable for both parties. As you think hard, an idea begins to form in your mind. A curious idea, but one that just work.
What if, you ask, the railroad was made to bow? A tunnel, an artificial cave, running deep beneath the river – it would, after all, put Lapis above the people travelling the railroad.
[1/2]
>>47234269
Tunnelbro...
>>47234269
This stops Lapis in his tracks, his lazy gliding finally stopping dead as he considers the idea. The only thing that suggests he is anything other than a statue, in fact, is the slow and steady lash of his tail cutting through the skin of water. Then he laughs, a boom of genuine amazement shaking the cavern.
“You amuse me, Wanderer,” he rumbles, “Making a road bow down – I have never heard of such a thing! Yet, perhaps there is value in your suggestion...”
It would be hard work to build, you warn, and it might still cause some disruption to his river.
“And it would put the lives on many in my hands,” Lapis counters, “Now, I bear these people no malice or ill-will, but that may not remain the same forever.”
That IS a risk, you admit, and not one that the Emperor will be quick to overlook. In truth, it's not one you can easily ignore either – you've seen how the gods can be corrupted, you know exactly how bad the consequences could be if Lapis was turned against humanity. If he decided to take those within the tunnel as “sacrifice”...
“Incentive, perhaps, for a peaceful relationship,” Lapis muses, “Yes. Tell your Emperor that I am prepared to discuss this with him. Mutual respect and cooperation will benefit us both – if he is prepared to do his part and negotiate.”
With wise counsel, you suggest, you think that he could be convinced to see things from Lapis' perspective. The negotiations themselves might be long and painful, but compared with open war, they would be an acceptable trial.
“Then I think we are done,” Lapis decides, “Have you anything to say, Wanderer?”
>No, I think our business is concluded
>There was something... (Write in)
>Other
>>47234389
>>No, I think our business is concluded
>>47234389
>>No, I think our business is concluded
>>47234389
>>No, I think our business is concluded
I think we covered all topics.
>>47234389
>>No, I think our business is concluded
No, you agree, your business is done. As you're bowing low – the gesture taking on a strange significance, considering the idea you proposed – Lapis plunges his tail into the water before you. As the dragon lifts his great tail up, the water lifts with it, twisting and coiling into a shimmering crystal that dances in the air. You admire it for a moment, struck dumb by the beautiful light glowing softly within, before you realise what it is.
“Yes, a gift for you,” Lapis tells you, “Your actions here have not gone unnoticed – now, it is time for you to be rewarded. Accept this with my blessing.”
With his words still humming in your ears, you reach up to clasp the delicate crystal – not ice, but a form shaped from flowing water – in your hands. At the first moment of contact, it dissolves and flows across your skin, inscribing a new magic deep within you in the process.
>New spell card gained:
>[Lapis] Draconic Authority
>“The word of a dragon is not so easily resisted. Command in my name, Wanderer.”
>This spell can be used in one of two ways:
>To impart your words with a strong sense of authority and command. Undecided listeners will be compelled to obey, but hostile enemies will not. This effect will not raise suspicions among those influenced
>Alternatively, it can issue one simple, absolute order that all listeners will be forced to obey, short of harming themselves. However, this effect will be remembered as unnatural, and linked back to you.
A powerful tool, you realise. With a single command, an enemy might drop his sword or flee entirely. Not much use in an honourable duel, admittedly, but in the throes of deadly combat? A damn fine weapon to have in your arsenal. Bowing again, you turn and wade out of the cave. Time to get some rest, you think, it's been a long day.
[1/2]
>>47234665
The next morning, you're halfway through checking over your belongings – the “borrowed” scroll depicting the devotional tunnels included – when Toraji stumbles in, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looks, you observe, like someone in the grips of his very first hangover.
“There was a party,” he mumbles, catching sight of your amused look, “Uh... I came here to say something, but... uh...”
“Take your time,” Howa tells him, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth, “Think before you speak. You're a priest now, I hear, you're going to have to act like it.”
“Am I?” he asks, in a voice that is thick and foolish, “Right, right, I am. Uh, I kinda... forgot, I guess. Oh, well, I just wanted to thank you again, but... oh!” A faint trace of awareness returns to Toraji's eyes as he snaps his fingers. “Holm!” he blurts out, “I mean, the head priest was looking for you. Wanted to... talk, I guess.”
Then you'll deal with him, you reply. For now, Toraji should get some sleep – he looks like he needs it.
“Thank you,” he sighs, brushing past you and collapsing face down on one of the crude beds. A second later, and he is snoring softly.
Maybe not a hangover, you think as you're leading Howa and Koa out, maybe he was still drunk. Just as Toraji warned you, Holm is waiting in the temple entrance with a hideous grimace upon his face. Not a grimace, you realise, he's actually smiling.
“Sunao passed the test,” Holm tells you, reaching out to shake your hand, “I owe you thanks, Wanderer, for everything that you have done. You will always be welcome here, at the Dragon's Head. You're welcome here,” he adds with a deliberate scowl, “But don't think you can just bother me whenever you like!”
Politeness really is beyond him.
>Sunao is a good kid. You should be proud
>One last warning, Sunao is not high priest material
>Goodbye Holm
>Other
>>47234785
>Sunao is a good kid. You should be proud
"Don't go easy on him though. He still has things to learn."
Shake hand.
>>47234785
>>One last warning, Sunao is not high priest material
Not yet, you'll need to stop coddling him.
>>47234785
>Sunao is a good kid. You should be proud
>Goodbye Holm
>>47234785
>Sunao is a good kid. You should be proud
>One last warning, Sunao is not high priest material
High priests are not born, they are learned and molded. He's smart, confident and earnest, but those alone are not enough. He has a long path ahead of him.
>>47234785
>Sunao's a good kid. You should be proud.
>That said, he's not high priest material, not yet.
One last warning, you tell Holm as you take his hand and shake it firmly, Sunao is not high priest material. Not yet, at least – he's smart, confident and earnest, but that alone won't be enough is Holm keeps coddling him. There's a long road ahead of the boy, and he has a lot to learn. Don't go easy on him.
“I won't,” Holm promises, dropping any attempt at hostility and meeting your eye, “It's time he was whipped into shape.”
Sunao's a good kid though, you remark as you let go of Holm's hand, he should be proud of the boy.
“I am,” the old priest replies, a note of unfamiliar warmth lingering in his tone, “I really am.”
The Dragon's Head, you realise, is in good hands. For the next few years, at least. Saying Goodbye to Holm one last time, you start to head off when Howa calls out to the old man.
“And if I come back here and find that archive in a mess,” she warns, “I'll make sure that this place needs a new high priest!”
Wincing, fearing the diplomatic incident that Howa has surely just caused, you're pleasantly surprised to hear Holm laughing – actually laughing – at the comment. His laugh isn't particular easy to listen to, sounding rather more like a coughing fit, but it's a welcome sound nonetheless.
“I'll be sure to send word to the Nameless Temple,” he retorts, “The next time it needs a good cleaning out.”
This time, it's Howa's turn to laugh – a far nicer sound, in your biased opinion. With a new respect forming between you and the gnarled old priest, you end up riding out of the Dragon's Head on a high, your spirits unexpectedly lifted. Ahead of you, the road stretches out west to Voile, and whatever trials await you there.
[1/2]
>Next post might be slightly delayed, please wait warmly
>>47235113
The fine weather that you had enjoyed at the Dragon's Head lingers for a while, but it doesn't last long. The further west you ride, the darker and cloudier it becomes, a deep chill settling in. Sitting behind you, Howa shivers a little and presses herself against your back. When she sighs softly, her breath tickles your ear. If you were alone out here, it would be a pleasant scene even with the dubious weather, but...
“I've never heard much about Voile,” Koa says loudly, causing Howa to jerk back a little, “I've seen the name in that book you gave me, but it didn't go into much detail.”
“That's because there isn't a lot of details out there,” Howa replies primly, “It's an old place, Voile, and the records are incomplete. It's been burned to the ground several times, if the local history is to be believed, but people always come back to rebuild it. Strange, don't you think? Normally, a place like that gets a bad reputation, one that drives people away. Yet, something always seems to draw people to the place. It's certainly not the convenience of the place – it's in the middle of a thick wood – and there are no real natural resources in the area. Really, it's a mystery to me.”
And if something's a mystery to Howa, you tell Koa, it might as well be a mystery to the entire land.
“I guess so,” Koa murmurs, taking your attempt at a joke as a serious comment, “It's a little spooky, don't you think?”
Maybe so, you agree, and that's before getting into your reasons for coming. Something, you remind them both, has been preying on local children. You've got to figure out what, and resolve the incident.
“I did a little extra reading while you were, ah, busy,” Howa tells you, “Got any questions, Ira?”
>Do we know about the local gods?
>Who burned the place?
>Where's the next closest town?
>I'd rather just ride in peace and quiet
>Other
>>47235321
>Do we know about the local gods?
>Who burned the place?
>>47235321
>Do we know about the local gods?
>Who burned the place?
>Where's the next closest town?
>>47235321
>Do we know about the local gods?
>Who burned the place?
>Where's the next closest town?
>>47235321
>>Do we know about the local gods?
>>Who burned the place?
>>Where's the next closest town?
What did you think of the Dragon temple?
What does she know, you ask, about the local gods? It's a pretty safe bet that they're going to be a factor at work – they wouldn't send for a Wanderer otherwise – so it pays to get as much information as you can.
“That's an interesting issue,” even without seeing her face, you know exactly what kind of smile Howa will be wearing. Eager, curious and a little bit mischievous. “You see,” she begins, “The records – written by the locals, I assume – don't talk about their gods much. They do talk about other things, though.” Excitement now, at the prospect of a good mystery. “Old folk tales about voices in the fog, and distant shapes seen through the trees,” she chuckles softly, “This could be fun, don't you think?”
Sure, you grunt, fun. Anyway, she said that the place had been burned – who, exactly, burned the place?
“According to my research, just about every army that has ever moved through the place,” Howa's enthusiasm dampens a little, “During the Farmer's Revolution, Emperor Tatsuhiro – oh, he wasn't Emperor back then, but you know what I mean – moved his troops through. They burned it. Before that, during the War of the Two Cities, Imperial troops occupied the town for a while – and then they burned it. Even before that, I've got scattered records of tribes fighting over the area where the town is now, tearing down whatever their enemies built there and moving on.”
“Wait a minute,” Koa interrupts, “You're saying that these tribes tried to take the land – not any town, but the land itself – from their enemies just so they could wreck the place?”
“That seems to be the case,” Howa answers calmly, “It makes you wonder, doesn't it?”
“It makes me worried,” the apprentice mutters darkly.
[1/2]
>>47235556
>“It makes me worried,” the apprentice mutters darkly.
Sounds like Ira
>>47235556
Focus on more practical matters, you tell the pair, where's the next closest town?
“Just making sure we know where to run to?” Howa laughs delicately, a faint note of worry lurking beneath the humour, “According to the maps I've got, Voile is almost exactly halfway between the Dragon's Head and the Stone of the North-West. If we go a little further north, we could reach Pit Progress.”
So if you end up needing to make a quick exit, you've got the choice of backtracking to the Dragon's Head, or “enjoying” whatever hospitality Kurasu is willing to offer you. He might be in a good mood with his new job, but you doubt it. Kurasu is the sort of person who has never been in a good mood – ever. Perhaps you'll be returning to the Dragon's Head sooner than you were expecting. Speaking of that, you ask your pair of travelling companions, what did they think about the temple there?
“Really very beautiful,” Howa tells you, “I'm glad I got the chance to study the place, although I wish it had been under better circumstances.”
“The place doesn't have much luck,” Koa adds, “I wish it did though, they don't deserve it. Living in a battlefield like that, it can't be easy. I mean, the Nameless Temple was bad enough when all those soldiers were marching about, but at least we weren't shooting at each other.”
[2/3]
>>47235728
As you're grunting a vague reply, the first raindrop – fat and heavy – lands on the brim of your hat. Behind you, Howa sighs and pulls up the hood of her cloak. It's not long before the last traces of the good weather dissolve into rainfall and cold wind. When the trees start to grow thick around you – Voile must be close now – so does the mist. Clinging low to the ground, it coils around the hooves of your increasingly skittish horses.
What was that Howa said, you wonder, about voices in the fog? Well, you don't hear-
“Ira,” Howa asks, “Do you hear that?”
>Please roll 1D100, aiming to beat 60. I'll take the highest of the first three
>Or, we could use our detect magic spell to pass automatically.
Rolled 47 (1d100)
>>47235743
Rolled 12 (1d100)
>>47235743
Rolled 79 (1d100)
>>47235743
Rolled 27 (1d100)
>>47235743
>>47235792
Nice save.
Hey Moloch does Howa also have a detect magic spells in her holster?
>>47235830
>She does, yes. Exactly the same version of it that Ira has.
Frowning, you realise that Howa's voice was utterly devoid of any humour or light. It was a simple murmur of fear, one that seems to grip her entire body with a slight tremor. That, more than her question itself, makes you focus on the woods around you. You don't hear anything at first, but that itself is unusual.
“Yeah,” Koa murmurs, “No birds, nothing at all.”
But that's not what got Howa's attention. No, there's something else out there in the trees, a noise that seems to evade any attempt at focussing on it. Sometimes it sounds like a hum, other times a shrill whine. It lilts and dips like a song wavering between two pitches, always just slightly out of tune. Quite simply, it's a horrible thing to listen to – not painful, perhaps, but incredibly ugly. Now that you're aware of it, you can't ignore it either, any attempt at pushing the sound out of your mind merely drawing your attention back to it.
“Yeah, I can't get it out of my head either,” Howa agrees, her voice tight with displeasure, “Can't... focus on anything at all, actually. Do you know what that means?”
You know exactly what it means. Until you've found some way to block out that dreadful tune – and covering up your ears doesn't seem to help at all - you won't be able to focus enough to use your magic.
“What a fascinating phenomenon,” Howa murmurs to herself, “I wonder if it could be harnessed somehow...”
It might just take the sting out of the Seer's sorcery, you finish for her, if he follows the same rules that you do. Which, considering the source of his power, is not guaranteed. Still, it bears investigation while you're in the area. Then, before you can consider the idea any more, the trees part before you and reveal old Voile, in all its cursed and forbidden glory.
[1/2]
>>47234300
>>47234269
well it's a good thing I mentioned this before, because I've had to sit this session out preparing for an exam.
>>47236057
Glory, you will admit, is pushing it a little. It would be more accurate to say that the settlement is a wasteland, one populated by slouched and hooded figures that drag themselves forwards like dying men. It reminds you a little of Solitude, and the diseased pilgrims that slowly decayed there. The people you see all wear thick cloth wrapped around their heads – covering, you realise, their ears.
“They must hear it as well,” Koa says slowly, “Or... even if they don't know that they hear it, it's bad enough that they need to block it out.”
Maybe, you agree. Looking around, you can spot one strange feature about the town – a combination of two very distinct styles of construction. Wooden huts, crudely thrown together and already falling apart, and ancient stone structures. Those must have survived the burnings, you figure, while the newer buildings were put up by whoever came to live here.
Live, you realise, might not be the word – perhaps “exist” would be more accurate.
“Ira,” Howa whispers to you, “I don't see any children.”
She's right. Even though there are many adults slouching about, or dragging themselves from one building to another, you don't see a single child.
“So, uh, where do we start?” Koa asks, a low tremor of fear in his voice, “I mean, this place is... not right.”
>You two wait here, I need to take a look around – on my own
>Let's arrange somewhere to sleep. We could be here a while
>Howa, you wanted to find a library, didn't you?
>Other
>>47236224
>>Let's arrange somewhere to sleep. We could be here a while
>>47236224
>>Let's arrange somewhere to sleep. We could be here a while
>>47236224
>>Let's arrange somewhere to sleep. We could be here a while
And earplugs.
>>47236224
>Let's arrange somewhere to sleep. We could be here a while
armies usually don't have the luxury of taking their time
This doesn't look like something you'll solve in a day, you tell the pair, best you arranged somewhere to sleep. Normally, that would be a tavern or an inn, somewhere with lodgings to rent. When those aren't available – a rare thing – you tend to take the hospitality of a local temple or any house with a spare room. Here though, you're not sure those are options either. There doesn't appear to be a temple, and you're a little... wary about trusting these shuffling, hooded villagers. There's something unwholesome about them, but you can't quite say what it is.
Tying up your horses in a shaded spot – not difficult to find, with the trees forming a high canopy above you – you help Howa down and start to delve a little deeper into the town. Eventually, Koa points out a building that might be promising, one with a wooden sign dangling above the door. No words or letters on the sigh – in itself, a strange thing to see – but there is a crude coin symbol carved into it. A shop, perhaps, but not one that looks like it sees regular custom.
Inside, the dismal interior is cramped with sealed crates and frayed sacks, and lit by a single flickering lantern. Behind a desk, a single man – his face as worn as the building itself, what little isn't hidden behind his heavy turban – looks up at you with weary, disinterested eyes.
“Do for you?” he whispers, a thick accent blurring his words together, “No much for strangers here, 'fraid.”
You're looking for somewhere to stay, you ask slowly, is there anyone here who can rent out a few rooms?
“Rent,” he repeats, never lifting his gaze from your chest, “Don't rightly think so. Want, you can shelter in them ruins. Stone ones, see?”
The stone structures you saw. Well, you've slept in worse...
“Else?” the man rasps, as if he is waiting for you to leave.
>Who's in charge here?
>I hear you're having trouble with your children
>Tell me about this place
>That's everything. Thank you
>Other
>>47236541
>Who's in charge here?
>I hear you're having trouble with your children
>Tell me about this place
>>47236541
>Who's in charge here?
>>I hear you're having trouble with your children
>>Tell me about this place
>>47236541
>>Who's in charge here?
>>I hear you're having trouble with your children
Who exactly is in charge here, you ask as the man stares blankly at you, do they have a leader? After all, you think, someone had to send that poorly written Writ. Normally, that duty falls to the local leader, whoever that might be. Here, though, you've not seen anything that might be considered authority – and barely anything that indicates civilisation.
“Leader, is it?” at least this gets a reaction, “Down, end of the row. Next to the tower, see?” Pausing, as if this brief and irregular burst of speech tired him out, the shopkeeper lazily scratches his cheek. A rain of dried skin flakes free as his cracked nails rake down his face, and you have to fight back a sneer of disgust. “Argas,” he adds eventually – a name, you have to assume.
Sighing inwardly, fully aware that this conversation could take a while, you move on. You hear they've been having trouble with their children, you ask, is that right?
“Nope,” the shopkeeper replies flatly, slowly shaking his head, “Not worse than nobody else. Get rowdy sometimes. Slap them when they do, that does the job.” As he says this, you hear a faint sound from the floor above, like something scraping against the floor. A chair being dragged along the floor, maybe? Trading a furtive glance with Howa, she offers a tiny shrug of confusion.
You'd like him to tell you about this place, you urge, about Voile. Anything he can tell you would help, anything at all.
“Used to be, we'd cut lumber,” he tells you, “Good lumber in these parts, see? Traders stopped coming though, folks we sent out never came back. Better off without them. We're quiet folks here, stranger, and we don't want trouble. Best you be leaving quick, like.”
And why, you ask, is that?
“Is,” he shrugs heavily, as if moving through syrup, “Just is.” Another scraping sound from above you, this time drawing the shopkeeper's eyes to the roof. “Best you be leaving,” he repeats, nodding towards the door.
[1/2]
>>47236905
“Well,” Howa remarks once you've left the shop, “They certainly have a very unique way of doing things here!”
“I think we should leave,” Koa mumbles, “I don't like it here. I don't.”
“Isn't it strange that he was so quick to dismiss the idea of needing help?” Howa insists, “And he was pretty keen on the idea of us leaving. If I didn't know any better...”
You'd think he was hiding something, you finish, like whatever was causing that strange scraping sound. It was the sort of sound that someone tied to a chair might make if they were trying to struggle free. Maybe it's just your paranoia talking, but...
“No, I think that's about right,” Howa nods, “I'd say that was exactly right.”
At least you've got a little bit of information to go on. Their leader, Argas, lives in a building near some kind of tower. Which means, you think aloud as you point off to a nearby stone structure, that must be it. There's nothing else, after all, that would pass for a tower – just that one lonesome stone spike, looming over the rest of the town. Hiding in its shadow is another structure, one that is slightly nicer than the others.
“I think that might be the library,” Howa muses, “I read that it was a “grand and lofty structure” in one of the older references. I don't know about the “grand” part, but...”
“Could we try tomorrow? I'm tired,” Koa yawns suddenly, “I guess the ride over tired me out. I know it's early – it's, what, not even evening yet – but this constant gloom is wearing on me.” He gazes up at the sky, what little can pierce the canopy of wide tree branches. It's cloudy, without a hint of sun. Just looking at that sky makes you feel weary as well. Not quite tired, but...
>We need to speak with Argas
>Let's check the tower, see if it really is the library
>Koa's right, we should rest
>Other
>>47237096
>We need to speak with Argas
We wouldn't happen to have some instant coffee in our rations for Koa right? I'm a little skittish about resting in this place, at least right now.
>>47237096
>>We need to speak with Argas
>>47237096
>>We need to speak with Argas
We'll hit the library after since they are next to each other.
Also this place as spooky.
No deal, you tell Koa, you've still got some work to do. Once you've spoken with Argas, you'll consider your options once again. In truth, you're a little uncertain about sleeping in this place, not until you know a little more about what you're dealing with. If Argas was the one to send off the Writ, he should have the answers you're looking for.
“Man...” Koa grumbles, rubbing his reddened eyes, “Orders are orders, but...”
Plucking a small metal flask from a deep pocket, you hold it out to Koa. Take a sip, you tell him, a SMALL sip. It's medicine, something that should keep him going for a few hours. You've used it a few times before, times when you've needed to ride through the night without wasting a few hours on sleeping. With an uncertain look on his face, Koa risks a tiny sip of the liquid and almost immediate breaks down into a fit of coughing.
“Gods,” he splutters, sounding very much awake all of a sudden, “What's in that stuff?”
Actually, you shrug, you have no idea. Some kind of herbs, maybe?
“And you drink it?” he stammers.
Not unless you can help it, you reply as you take the flask back and bury it in your pocket once more. Now that he's taken his medicine, at least, you can all get back to work. Then, smirking a little at the sound of Koa's rasping breaths, you lead the way towards Argas' house. Once more, you see no signs of any children as you walk through the town, and none of the hooded villagers you pass pay you any attention.
Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they deliberately ignore you.
Up close, Argas' house is definitely nicer – it even as a window, the cracked glass held in place with a crude wooden frame. A filthy window, mind, but it's still the first one you've seen in this entire place. Shrugging slightly, you pound your fist on the door and wait. Eventually, a thin voice from inside urges you to enter.
[1/2]
>>47237460
Argas, slumped over what might have once been a writing desk, is a thin looking man. Thin in every way, from his near skeletal frame to the sparse hair drooping down from his scalp. A scrappy beard, as if he grew tired of shaving it halfway through the task, almost covers his cheeks and chin. Dark hair, the kind that only serves to exaggerate the pallor of his skin. In short, he looks to be one of the unhealthiest looking men you've ever seen - other than those walking corpses at Solitude, of course.
“Either someone sent you here, or you picked a random house and got very lucky,” he rasps, heaving himself up to his full height, “I'm Argas, I suppose I'm the closest thing this place has to a leader.”
“You seem like an educated man,” Howa points out, before you can get a question in, “And you don't seem to be covering your ears.”
“There's no point in covering them,” Argas shakes his head slightly, wincing at some phantom pain, “It's not your ears that are the problem. I've tried telling the others, but they won't listen to me. Little more than beasts, some of them. To answer your second question... yes, I might just be the only scholar left here. I was a doctor once, actually, in Garuna. Do you need a doctor?”
No, you tell him, you'd rather get some answers.
“A curious one, are you?” Argas tries to laugh, “Very well – I can't claim to have all the answers, but I rather expect you don't have all the questions either.”
All the questions?
“All the questions in the entire world,” this time, Argas can laugh – a thin, skittering sound, “There are a lot, you know.”
>Is there a god here?
>What brought you here, Argas?
>Did you send a Writ to the Nameless Temple?
>I've got a question for you.. (Write in)
>Other
>>47237582
>Is there a god here?
>What brought you here, Argas?
>Did you send a Writ to the Nameless Temple?
>Is there a problem with the children?
>>47237582
>>Is there a god here?
>>What brought you here, Argas?
>>Did you send a Writ to the Nameless Temple?
How does this place function if no traders come here?
>>47237582
>Is there a god here?
>What brought you here, Argas?
>Did you send a Writ to the Nameless Temple?
First of all, you want to get the main issue out of the way. Is there a god here, you ask, has there ever been a god here?
“A god, hmm? I didn't take you for a religious man,” Argas muses, “The people here, they tend to have very active imaginations – you wouldn't think it looking at them, would you? Anyway, they don't have a faith so much as they have their folk tales, passed down from father to son, mother to daughter. One of them, their most popular tale, is about... ah, what was it called?” Argas heaves a heavy sigh as he thinks, kneading his temples as he does so. “Ah!” inspiration strikes suddenly, “The Murmuring Goat, they called it.”
“And what,” Howa asks, “Is the Murmuring Goat?”
“It's a goat that murmurs things,” Argas giggles, “It's said to be a man with the head of a goat, and he lurks in the woods around us. At night, see, he comes and whispers secrets to people. Children especially, the stories go.”
Children, you repeat, you'd like to know more about that – are they having a problem with their children here? Are there any children left? At your mention of children, Argas gets a strangely furtive look, as if he had raised a subject better left unspoken.
“You want to watch who you ask about that,” he confides, “Folks around here take a certain pride in being independent. They don't like outsiders coming in and acting as if they have authority here, even just for the little things. When there's a problem with the children, everyone thinks they know best. If that problem is having the children sneaking out in the night, well, they just lock them up. Tie them down, if they have to.”
“Gods...” Howa murmurs, her knuckles white against the dark wood of her polished cane.
Is that the problem, you ask, the children were sneaking out at night?
“That's the start of it,” Argas says darkly.
[1/3]
>>47237957
“See, that's how it started,” he continues, “They'd slip out and cause a bit of a panic, then they'd show up again, wandering about in the trees acting like nothing was wrong. Then, things started to get worse – they got... secretive, see? They knew things, things that they had no right to know, and they weren't shy about saying them. Not at first, at least – they got wise quick, and they didn't say a thing after that. Gods, but they took to writing though!”
Writing, you muse, what sort of things were they writing?
“Ah, most of us wouldn't be able to tell you. Folks round here don't tend to be the reading types, if you get my drift,” Argas' eye flutters down into a sly wink, “I managed to get a book once, scraps of paper really, but I couldn't make head nor tail of it. Mad talk about eating gods and whatnot. Foolish stuff – like I said, folks here got good imaginations.”
Stop, you insist, maybe you'll get back to that. You need a little history – what brought him, Argas, here in the first place?
“They were selling lumber here, and word got out that they needed a doctor. Accidents happen, see?” Argas shrugged, “Well, that was about the time I was looking to get away from the city, so I took my daughter and took the first wagon out here.”
“You've got a daughter?” Koa asks, his interest piqued.
“I'll be thanking you to get that look out of your eye,” Argas snaps, glaring at Koa until the apprentice drops his eyes and stares at the floor, “My little treasure. Fawn, she's called. Unlike the others round here, I don't believe in locking her up at night – she's got a good head on her shoulders, and I trust her to use it.”
So that's it, you press, they needed a doctor and he just came out here?
“Were you expecting more?” Argas throws his hands up in disgust, “Rightly sorry that I've not led an interesting enough life for you, sir!”
That's not... exactly what you meant.
[2/3]
>>47238119
Moving on, you sigh, did he happen to send a Writ out to the Nameless Temple?
“Can't say that I did,” Argas shakes his head, “I've heard the name before, though – you'll be one of them Wanderers, right? Never met one before, up until now. Bit disappointing really – you look right like a normal person.”
And what, you wonder, was he expecting? So, you ask aloud, does he know who did send the Writ?
“Can't say that I do,” he shrugs, “It'll be a short list, if it was anything with letters on it. Well, less one of the kids managed to slip their bonds...”
That might be the case, you tell him with a shrug, like he said – it's getting to be a short list. While you're still here, though, you had another question for him. You heard that traders have stopped coming here – how does the town function without any outside trade?
“Doesn't, mostly,” Argas shrugs, “We've got a more simple way of looking at life, out here – you want meat, you string a bow and find yourself a deer. Want firewood, you grab an axe and get it for yourself. Folks grow their own food – fertile land is plentiful here, you see. I reckon the world outside could burn down or turn to dust, and the folks here might not notice for a good while. Nice, if you've got a liking for isolation. Some don't, but they're not the types to come out here in the first place, see?”
That makes a certain kind of sense. Sort of.
“Now, was that all?” Argas looks down at his barren desk for a moment, as if trying to focus his thoughts on something, “Only, I had... something I needed to do. Something.”
>Is that the old library, in the tower?
>I'll be going now
>I did want to ask something... (Write in)
>Other
>>47238204
>>Is that the old library, in the tower?
>I did want to ask something... (Write in)
"If I wanted to talk to these children, the ones that can write, without having the whole town getting angry at me, how would I do it?
>>47238204
>>Is that the old library, in the tower?
>>47238204
>Is that the old library, in the tower?
So we have a town full of mostly illiterate people, a grand library, and children that are seemly becoming literate when they sneak out.
>>47238204
>Is that the old library, in the tower?
When I hear about a creepy goat in the woods, what I think about is Shub-Niggurat.
So, you ask carefully, if someone wanted to try and talk with some of these suddenly literate children without offending the townspeople...
“How would they go about doing it?” Argas finishes for you, “Well, that's an interesting conundrum. Now, I might be able to help you with that. I make it my business to know things, you see, about the people of this town. Out of a medical need, see? I should know, just in case someone needs my help.”
“Of course,” Koa mutters, “Not because you're a spy or anything...”
Argas laughs at that – that same awful laugh – but otherwise makes no comment. “See, I know a family that has themselves a still. Throw any kind of material in there, and you can get yourself some alcohol – you know the sort of thing, right? I also know that they tend to lie around in a drunken stupor until, oh, about noon. So, if someone wanted to sneak in and have an early morning conversation with their kid...”
They'd be too passed out to notice or care, you nod, interesting. Would he happen to know which family?
“Did you see an old shop on the way here, awful place with a sign above the door? You did? Good...” Argas thinks for a moment, “Three, I think, buildings up. You'll see a house with a skull nailed above the door. A deer skull – don't go getting any spooky thoughts. It's some superstition about keeping away bad spirits or something... as if they don't have enough problems with spirits as is!” Another whistling laugh, the old doctor rubbing his dry scalp as he chuckles.
That old tower next door, you ask in an attempt to stop that horrible sound, is that the library?
“And have you ever been inside it?” Howa asks eagerly, “What's it like?”
“Full of books, I wager,” Argas just keeps laughing, making your steadily growing headache even worse, “Yes sir, that's the old library. Been in it once or twice – a little too dark and spooky for my liking.”
[1/2]
>>47238529
Thanking Argas for his help, you turn to leave. As you do so, your gaze happens to pass across that single window, just for a second.
A second is long enough.
In that second, you see the leering skull of a goat, those gnarled horns unmistakable even at a glance. The skull is shrouded in a thick wreath of black fur, trailing down in dark and oily tangles. When that awful thing sees you, it retreats, lurching away with the kind of speed that no pure and wholesome creature should possess. That's it, some panicked voice screeches out from the depths of your mind, that's the Murmuring Goat!
Stay here, you bark to Howa and Koa, you need to hurry after it! They don't argue – you don't give them time to argue – and you're rushing out of the house before you realise it. Drawing your sword and your pistol as you move, you scan the horizon – thick with mist and the twisting silhouettes of ancient trees – for any flicker of black. In the distance, already so far away, you see something move and tear after it. As you run, the song in your ears rises high and furious until that deathly whine even drowns out the sound of your crashing footsteps. You run without thought or pause, just plunging onwards after that faint glimpse of blackness.
And then you've lost it, and you find yourself standing in a rough clearing. Creeping and intimate, the mist seems to press tightly against your body in a chilling wave, pinning you in place. Out of that fog, you hear them.
Voices. A hissing, murmuring chorus of voices.
>I think I'll end things there for tonight. Next thread on Sunday, and I can stick around for a short while in case of any questions!
>>47238592
Spooky. Reminds me of Baphomet,
Thanks for running Moloch.
>>47238592
Almost time to remove kebab, thanks Moloch.
>>47238592
Sorcery construct? Cause it sounds like it
>>47238927
The way Ira reacted? There could be a good chance.
