You are Mouse, the ogre. Although raised by humans you found yourself in service of the dark elven queen - and with her blessing you have embarked on a quest to purge the corruption plaguing the very world you live in.And currently, you seemed to be on the course of bringing this quest to a conclusion.Or at least that is what you had surmised and what you were hoping for. In truth you had precious little idea of what exactly was happening – moments ago you were witnessing a duel between Vult, the mercenary leader, and Maia, the woman who loved him. Then, you were facing the Vult-shaped puppet of the Beast. And now, inexplicably, after journeying through the realm beyond the material, with Laurentia for companion, you found yourself in the midst of a quickly dissolving vision of what seemed to be a not so distant past, watching interaction between an old jaded priest and a scribe assigned a dubious task.“When you feel frightened by the world, remember what gave you the hope to carry on.”The words flow forth, and you’re not sure who is the one to speak them, or if they are audible at all, but in either case both the scribe and the old priest seem to respond to it, their eyes widening slightly and the afternoon sunlight pouring in through the window brightening by a tiniest bit.Or perhaps it was just their eyes that have seen a modest spark of light they didn’t recall having. That is the last idea you manage to formulate as the mists gather and obscure the scene, hurling your consciousness elsewhere.I… I think something changed. I think that helped. You feel Laurentia reach out to you, across whatever the gulf separates you right now. Impression you gain from her voice is strained, but resolved and holding on strong. I can’t seem to track you where and when you go, I just feel your steps. Please be careful.You’re not sure if your own feelings of trust and reassurance get carried back to her when the mists swirl once again, revealing the image you’ve felt would be coming.
You found yourselves amidst a scene of carnage. Stench of death, freshly dried blood, moans and cries of the wounded and an occasional cheer of triumph or cry of pain pervaded the surroundings beneath the glowering midday sun. Your gaze fell on a young lad in white cloth navigating the carnage, surveying the bodies and looking for the wounded that could still be saved.He was one of your subordinates, an acolyte assigned to medical duties, sent out to search for survivors by you, a middle aged chaplain. And you realize that you’ve put him to the task only partly because it needed to be done. But in large part you did so in order for him to not be around at your own next destination.“You coming already, padre?” A man around your age, though with harder, harsher features and clad in an officer’s uniform – the livery was unknown to (You), but vaguely familiar in most generic of terms.With somewhat heavy heart you turn away and forward, and fixed your gaze on where you needed to go. It was at the edge of the field of battle, where the enemy had their camp you were assaulting. Several of the tents were still standing, some having been set aflame or trampled as the fighting extended in that direction. One of tents in particular, fortunately, as it was rather a large one, was left unscathed. Several sets of footsteps matched yours. Subordinates of the officer, your flock, and right now a group of knights singled out among survivors of the brutal, bloody battle to check the enemy encampment for evidence of heresy and blasphemy, and usable spoils of war.As you approached the large tent, the officer nodded at one of the knights accompanying you, to peek in while the others took up guarding posts. The designated scout did as commanded, blade raised in anticipation of a possible ambush or a trap… but there was neither. Instead the knight’s weapon arm fell along with his jaw.“Uhhh…”“What is it?” The officer asked, but didn’t wait for a response which didn’t seem immediately forthcoming in any case. The surprised knight was pushed aside and the officer stepped boldly into the tent, with you on his heels.First thing that hit you was the smell. Even if you’ve been steeling yourself against it, it was a different reek from that of the battlefield and subsequently you had to keep yourself from gagging.“Heh.”The officer grumbled with a smirk at the vision you came to share as soon as your eyesight accomodated to the dimmer light.And you were offered even a dimmer vision.
Women, six, no, seven of them – you almost missed one curled up in the corner – laid out in filthy rags. Mostly naked except for their bindings and occasional dirty bandages. They were restrained, but you were unsure to what extent their captors need to have bothered given their vacant glares and expressions.One of them stirred at the commotion and turned her gaze towards you.“Welcome back, masters…” She spoke with slurred voice. “Have you come to celebrate another victory?”Before you can gather yourself enough to respond, the officer speaks:“In a manner of speaking… after all, to the victor go the spoils.”The officer turns to invite his men, but pauses when his gaze comes across your expression.“You got a problem, padre?” The officer asks. “I admit your healing magics came in handy. But need I remind you that it was these men that put their life on the line so that your sort can preach your platitudes to the rest of us? Don’t you think they deserve some, as you scholar types say it, succour?”Conflict rages behind your eyes, and not simply because of (You)r outrage, and (You)r imagination casting faces of your friends on top of those of the abused captives, but also because of the chaplain’s own conflicting feelings about his commandments, own urges and sympathy for the men who did just go through a brutal fight where many of them lost lives, limbs and comrades.The officer, whom your other memory identified as a knight-captain Levantine, and you could see some family resemblance to both the mild mannered mage and his severe, grizzled father, was looking at you with a firm gaze with modest portion of conviction and a hint of a threat.Would he raise his blade against you if confronted? You knew he was not particularly pious man, though he seemed to show deference to rules and discipline to follow them, and he seemed to care for well-being of his men past their usefulness in combat, if not by much.It was time to make a choice.>You could stand your ground. ”This is wrong. You know this. We are supposed to be better than that. You are better than that.”>You could try appealing to his sense of order and discipline. “I was once told that the first person a leader has to master is themselves.”>You could… go along with officer’s intent, and pick at least one of the captives to shelter from the worst.>other idea
>>6092286>You could try appealing to his sense of order and discipline. “I was once told that the first person a leader has to master is themselves.”welcome back, even with the sloppa pic.
>>6092286>>You could stand your ground. ”This is wrong. You know this. We are supposed to be better than that. You are better than that.”
>>6092286>You could try appealing to his sense of order and discipline. “I was once told that the first person a leader has to master is themselves.”
>>6092283Is AI at even allowed on this board? I mean obviously it doesn't violate the rules, but isn't using it the kind of thing that gets the community to lynch you?
>>6093401considering this dude takes like a week between updates, this is the least of his issues
>>6093401it is, but the setback is lessened if you're a frequent qm. my biggest problem with it is that there's a lot of fanart of the character he posted, even if most are nsfw, so he could find one. but anyway, I'm glad that he returned to finish the story.
>>6093401I feel like the majority of people here don't care about AI
You want to give the man a piece of mind at what he’s suggesting. You feel your own flagging resolve reinforced with (You)r mixture of compassion, and outrage. You have so much to tell him.But perhaps that would not be the best course of action, for you or for those women. Perhaps there’s some other way to reach this man who has built a specific set of armour around his own heart.“I was once told, that the first person a leader has to master… is themselves.”You are surprised at how calmly you are able to speak under the officer’s steely gaze, and at first as his frown deepens, you wonder if you’ve maybe miscalculated.But whether it be because your words resonated well enough with his own soul, or perhaps because he saw the hint of your own conviction behind your eyes, his features soften somewhat next, and he breaks the eye contact, turning towards the women, some of them looking expectantly, most with blank expressions of someone who’s become accustomed to being treated like an inanimate object.“Priest… you have some gall telling me that.” The officer grunts. “Still, I must admit that you are not wrong. Men!” The abrupt shout of that last word made you wince, and a pair of soldiers entered the tent from behind you.“Sir… eeeh…?” The soldier’s gaze drifts away onto the captives.“Eyes on me while I’m talking to you!” Captain commands.“Yes, sir!”“You two hurry back to our camp and fetch some cleaning supplies and some clothes.”The soldiers salute, and after giving one more look to the scene before them, depart brusquely when the officer’s scowl deepens.Captain then turns back to you.“Go ahead and do what you feel is proper priest. And your goddess won’t help you if I find you doing anything else.”You nod solemnly at the threat you feel as superfluous. Or was it really? In either case, you turn towards the abused captives, with a prayer familiar to your host on your lips, and the sensation of light gathering in your soul and palms of your hand familiar to the both of you. So you move to undo the women's’ bindings and tend to their wounds…
After some time of work that is considerably more demanding emotionally than physically, and going through several songbooks’ worth of litanies devoted to purity and chastity, you are finally able to exhale with relief, satisfied that you’ve done what you could for the women. The rest would probably take time and gentler touch of the sisterhood of nuns. The captives were set down against a different structure of the former enemy camp, clad in spare cloaks the soldiers had brought. Most of them were asleep peacefully, few others were staring at nondescript points far away. Only one of them seemed to be actively surveying the scene, her haunted expression showing she was fully expect to wake up into continuation of a nightmare any time now, even as the tent they were held in has been put to the flame.Something felt… strange, to you, at that moment. As if the sun barely visible in the overcast sky shone just a touch brighter than it would have otherwise. There was a sense of relief you felt in the air as the soldiers walked past, tallying the loot and dragging dead cultists towards a funeral pyre.That last sight stirred a hint of sadness in you. Conflicted as you were about it, you kept it to yourself. Those were the enemies who have made their choice to scorn the path of light and embark on the path of cruelty.Still… why did they do so?What circumstances would have seen them choose otherwise?How many were driven by their own ruthlessness and nihilism, and how many were dragged along because those were the only principles they have ever known?How many allowed themselves to follow in the wake of despair they were raised in?Of course, as your gaze shifted back to meet the empty glare of the liberated women, much of the sympathy withered away. And you were filled with a bittersweet feeling when you saw one of the soldiers bring a bundle of rations and waterskins for them, his movements gentle and caring, as you catch yourself wondering, how far removed you were from a reality where events had taken quite a darker turn.Was there a way to save them all?One battle may have been won, but the struggle that takes place in heart of each of us, that one seemed to be and remain eternal.
Knight-captain walked past as he was doing his rounds, surveying the scene with his glare. When it met yours, he paused for a moment. In that moment you felt a brief, rare sensation of mutual respect. You were unable to tell what may have been running through his mind, but you got the sense that he did appreciate your support in helping him win not one, but two battles this day.With that, he turned to leave, and once again the mists began to flow around the edges of the image, and from the countless rifts in between.Premonitions of another vision pushed themselves forth, with force that hinted at a certain degree of finality. Perhaps-Thank you for what you have done, Mouse. I think you’ve done enough. This next one is dangerous, perhaps you could leave the rest for me. I think-Laurentia’s assuring voice is abruptly cut off as the mist turns a shade darker and its consistency thickens into a denser fluid, more reminiscent of Beast’s own ebbs and flows you’ve seen/felt/perceived before. You would be whisked away to somewhen, soon. >Is there any final message you’d like to leave with this moment?Reality of your next(?) destination is beginning to take form…>In the city of contrasts, spires of alabaster rising from the cesspits of filth…>...at the edge of the dawn, where the darkness meets first rays of light…>...a confrontation takes place, one of such disparity that the outcome is all but foregone…
>>6093401My impression is that there is a number of Anons who feel very strongly against AI pictures, some of the reasons they present I sympathise with to lesser or greater extent. Still, I like and enjoy the chance to bring characters I like into settings their original creators have denied them, and I have neither the skill to draw or money to spare for such purpose.>>6093670Is there? I'm aware of only a few, like there's the one with lightsabers, the Santa one I used in the past, and a few pictures of her in a natural setting.At any rate, thank you all for bearing with me. Hopefully it won't be long to reach the conclusion now.
>>6093899oh also for the sake of correctness, credit for the Chloe LoRA goes to x_milaidou_x
