>>6143731


Zamora reacts quickly, yanking a vial from her potion belt and hurling it toward the wyvern rider. Gris doesn’t hesitate, raising her hand to guide the potion mid-air with her telekinesis. You watch as the bomb curves unnaturally, zeroing in on its target.

The explosion is deafening, and the rider is engulfed in smoke and flames. When the air clears, his form hangs limply on the wyvern’s saddle, seemingly incapacitated or dead.

But the wyvern, driven by rage, doesn’t retreat. Instead, it lets out a furious screech and dives toward you. Before you can react, its talons close around your torso, yanking you off the ground. The wind howls in your ears as the creature climbs higher and higher, carrying you effortlessly into the sky.

Panic flares in your chest, but you force it down, gripping your sword with trembling hands. The rune etched into the blade flashes through your mind: *The Bringer of Night Light.* With a deep breath, you draw the blade, focusing all your energy on unlocking its power.

“I call upon the Bringer of Night Light!” you shout, your voice cutting through the chaos.

A surge of energy courses through you, and the sword begins to glow with an otherworldly pale blue light. The glow intensifies until it’s almost blinding, and then it happens—a brilliant explosion of light erupts from the blade, consuming the wyvern, the rider, and yourself in its dazzling brilliance.

>>6143741


You wake to the gentle rocking of the wagon. The world feels distant, your body heavy, but the voices of your companions pull you back to reality.

“You’re awake,” Gris says, leaning over you. Relief softens her expression. “How are you feeling?”

You sit up slowly, wincing as the events come rushing back. “The wyvern... what happened?”

Gris exchanges a glance with Caleb before replying. “You activated your sword’s magic. That flash—it blinded everyone, including the wyvern. It dropped you, and Caleb caught you before you hit the ground.”

You glance at Caleb, who nods, his expression unreadable. “You’re lucky,” he says. “But the wyvern wasn’t completely out. It managed to recover mid-fall and flew away, even with the rider hanging off its side.”

“So it’s still out there,” you mutter, your hand instinctively brushing the hilt of your sword.

Gris studies your face closely. “There’s something else. After the flash, a mark appeared on your face. It’s red, glowing faintly, like a scar or tattoo. It hasn’t faded.”

You touch your face, frowning. “What does that mean?”

Zamora steps forward, her gaze sharp and analytical. “It could be the sword’s magic. Drawing on your life force to activate such a powerful spell is no small thing. You’re pale—it must have taken a lot out of you.”

At that moment, Nabi lands carefully near the wagon, his massive frame moving with surprising gentleness. He nudges you with his snout, his worry evident.

“I’m okay, Nabi,” you reassure him. Then, remembering Gris’s need for his blood, you carefully extract a vial from his forepaw. Gris, however, is less patient. She drinks directly from the wound before you can stop her.

“Gris!” you exclaim, but she merely shrugs, unapologetic. After filling the vial with what’s left, you hand it to her, keeping Caleb at a distance. Ruth slaps him lightly and stuffs a clove of garlic into his mouth when his eyes linger too long on the blood.

By the time the sun rises, the horizon reveals a small village nestled amidst golden fields. It’s modest, with perhaps 300 residents, and seems peaceful enough. Yet you can’t shake the unease left by the wyvern’s escape.

What will you do?
> Enter the village and speak with the local authorities.
> Enter the village and look for work.
> Avoid the village altogether.
> Camp outside and send the bard to gather information.
> Send the kobold to sneak into the village for supplies.
> Write in.

>>6143742
> Camp outside and send the bard to gather information.
With such a motley crew, this seems like our best bet.

Glad to see a thread # 2, OP!

>>6143742
> Camp outside and send the bard to gather information.
Nice, made it to thread 2 good job

>>6143742
> Enter the village and speak with the local authorities
Seen any troublemaker with a Wyvern around?

>>6143759
>>6143784
>>6144181


You decide to set up camp just outside the village, far enough to avoid drawing unwanted attention but close enough to keep a watchful eye. After setting up a modest perimeter, you send the bard into the village with instructions to gather as much information as possible about the area, its people, and the threats they face.

The hours crawl by uneventfully as the group takes turns tending the fire and keeping watch. The night falls, and the crackle of the flames is the only sound accompanying the low rustle of wind through the nearby trees. Finally, the bard returns, his expression grim and weary.

“Bad news, everyone,” he begins, sliding down from the wagon. He brushes the dust from his cloak before continuing.

“The village has been under siege for weeks. Orcs have been harassing them relentlessly, and things are getting desperate. They sent a courier to a nearby city for aid, but the poor soul never made it.” He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in.

“Wyverns are a common enough sight around here, but wyvern riders? That’s a different story. The townsfolk are understandably spooked. An old man I spoke with told me the orcish tribes up in the mountains have been known to tame wyverns now and then. If riders are appearing, it could mean the tribes are banding together—or worse, gearing up for a major conflict.”

The group exchanges uneasy glances as the bard continues.

“The mayor of the village has a simple request: if we’re headed to the next city, we should deliver a message for aid. The orcs are becoming too much for their militia to handle. Oh, and speaking of the militia, I saw a group of men training with spears early this morning. They’re preparing for the worst.”

“Won’t they be exhausted from all that training?” Gris asks, crossing her arms.

The bard shakes his head. “No, they have a routine. They train in the morning, spend the afternoons gathering lumber, and at night, they light fires and patrol. The orcs only ever attack after dark, so they’re trying to be as ready as they can.”

The group falls silent, the firelight casting flickering shadows on their faces. Finally, all eyes turn to you.

What’s your decision?
> Offer to help the village defend against the orcs.
> Stay in the village for a few days to rest and observe.
> Continue moving to the next city, promising to deliver the mayor’s request for aid.
> Camp outside the village for the night and decide later.
> Search for the orcish camp to launch a preemptive attack.
> Write in.

>>6144432
> Offer to help the village defend against the orcs

>Write in
The plan.

Thinking about it. Kinda wanna stay and kill some orcs. They already know about our group from the wyvern rider, and they've already killed the other messengers so they probably won't let us go easily.

Let Caleb and the Bard train their militia a bit in squad tactics, and surely there's a few hunters for archers. Make some wooden barricades between the houses to funnel the orcs combined with some traps using Zamora's potions. Our cute little kobold is probably good at traps?

Eve, Megara, and Ruth prepare some big magic to take down the wyvern. Possibly take a look at those scrolls for something useful since I don't think we managed to get a good look at them yet, I imagine Gris might be the best at reading them. Funny thought but if any fairies are around maybe Gris can ask for their help to send a message to the local Lord for aid.

As for Nabi who is our goodest boi I suppose just get him well fed. If the village has some suitable containers to hold acid we could use that as a weapon or incorporate them into some traps.

Consider a riding harness on Nabi for a sweet ass dragon rider vs wyvern rider midair battle? Though if he's not big enough yet oh well.

>>6144432
>Continue moving to the next city, promising to deliver the mayor’s request for aid.
Seems too big a deal for us to settle ourselves

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>6144705
>>6144740


1 - offer to help
2 - continue moving

>>6144822


After hearing the bard’s report, you gather the group around the campfire to discuss the village’s predicament. The flames flicker and cast long shadows as everyone listens intently.

“The village’s plight is dire,” you begin, your tone grave. “But this isn’t something we can handle alone. If we’re caught between wyverns and orcs without reinforcements, it’ll be our doom. Our best course is to move on and deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the next city. They need more fighters, more resources—things we simply don’t have.”

Gris looks up from where she’s sharpening her blade. “I don’t like leaving them to fend for themselves, but you’re right. This is way bigger than us. What good would we be to anyone if we got ourselves killed trying to play heroes?”

Zamora nods quietly, her gaze distant. “A calculated retreat isn’t cowardice. It’s survival. I’ve learned that over decades of being hunted.”

The bard chimes in, his tone light but with an undercurrent of seriousness. “I’ll admit, I don’t relish the idea of facing a bunch of angry orcs. But I’ll be sure to make that request for aid sound as urgent as possible when we get to the city. I have a way with words, after all.”

Caleb, leaning on his spear, grunts. “So we’re running. Fine by me. Better to keep moving. But don’t think the road will be safe. Orcs don’t just vanish into thin air.”

The group agrees to break camp at first light, hoping to put distance between themselves and the embattled village before nightfall.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>6144830
The morning is quiet as you pack up your belongings and set out. The road stretches ahead, damp and muddy from the recent rains. As the wagon creaks along, the tension among the group is palpable. Nabi flies overhead, his shadow flickering over the treetops, keeping watch.

“Do you think the next city will even care?” Gris asks, breaking the silence. “I mean, some of these places barely lift a finger to help their neighbors.”

“We’ll make them care,” the bard replies, twirling his lute dramatically. “If I have to spin a tale of orc hordes and wyvern riders that shakes their very bones, so be it.”

“Let’s hope they listen to stories,” you say, glancing at the horizon. “For now, let’s focus on getting there in one piece. Caleb, keep an eye on the flanks. Zamora, stay alert for anything unusual—tracks, sounds, anything that might mean trouble.”

The day passes uneventfully, but as the sun begins its descent, the forest grows eerily quiet. Nabi swoops low and circles the wagon, letting out a guttural growl.

“Something’s not right,” Caleb mutters, tightening his grip on his weapon.

You hold up a hand to halt the wagon. “Everyone stay sharp. Gris, be ready. Zamora, have any potions that might help in a fight?”

Zamora quickly rummages through her belt. “I’ve got one more, it does—well, let’s just say it’ll make anything it touches regret being alive.”

You nod, scanning the treeline. “Let’s see what fate has in store for us.”

Rolling to see if you’re harassed by orcs or encounter something else...
1-2- Small patrol
3-4- Large patrol
5-6- War party
7-9 - Not harassed
10 - Unexpected encounter

>>6144831


The leader of the orc patrol steps forward, a hulking brute with green-gray skin and a jagged scar running down one side of his face. His crude, rusted sword gleams in the fading sunlight, and his bloodshot eyes scan your group with disdain.

“What in the name of Gruumsh is this?” he sneers, his guttural voice loud and mocking. “A ragtag bunch of heroes out for glory? Pah! You’ve wandered into the wrong part of the woods, little lambs.”

He gestures to one of his companions—a shorter orc with a horn slung around his neck. “Sound the alarm! Let’s see if our brothers want to join the fun.”

The orc with the horn raises it to his lips and blows a deep, resonant note that reverberates through the forest.

Gris growls, hand on her weapon. “Damn it! They’re calling reinforcements. We need to stop them before this gets out of hand.”

The orc leader smirks, clearly enjoying himself. “Did you come to liberate the village? Hah! You think you can take us all on?” He steps closer, pointing his blade at you. “Well, I’ll let you go this time, but you better run fast. Our wolf riders will be on you in no time.”

As if on cue, another horn sounds in the distance, its haunting call echoing ominously through the trees.

“That’s not far,” Caleb mutters, gripping his spear tightly. “They’ll be here in minutes if we don’t act fast.”

“Enough talking!” barks the leader. “Get them!”

The orcs tense, their weapons ready, while the two archers in the back notch arrows and take aim.

There are eight orcs:
- Two archers standing near the rear, bows drawn.
- Five sword-wielders, all burly and menacing, scattered in front.
- The horn-blower, standing slightly behind the leader, prepares to sound the call again.

You hear faint growls from the direction of the distant horn—likely the wolves the leader was boasting about.

“Orders?” Gris hisses, her blade half-drawn.

Zamora tugs a vial from her potion belt. “I have a little something... if we want to send a message.”

“What’s the plan?” asks the bard, clutching his lute tightly. “Because if it’s run, I’d like to suggest we start now.”

> Wipe out the orc patrol: Engage the group directly, risking reinforcements but clearing the immediate threat.
> Kill the orc sounding the horn: Focus on silencing the alarm to delay reinforcements.
> Take out the archers first: Neutralize their ranged threat before engaging the rest.
> Focus on the swordsmen: Reduce the number of melee fighters first.
> Ignore the patrol and move on: Attempt to outrun them, hoping the wolf riders don’t catch up.
> Write in

>>6144836
> Kill the orc sounding the horn: Focus on silencing the alarm to delay reinforcements.

>>6144836
> Kill the orc sounding the horn: Focus on silencing the alarm to delay reinforcements

>>6144852
>>6144862


You move as one, the urgency of silencing the orc’s alarm driving you forward. Caleb lunges first, spear glinting in the dim light as he drives it into the orc with the horn. The brute’s eyes widen in shock as the horn slips from his lifeless fingers, the sound dying in his throat.

Gris snarls, her blade flashing as she cuts down an orc who dares step too close. The rest of the patrol halts mid-charge, their bravado vanishing as they see your party cutting through their leader’s ranks with terrifying efficiency.

“They’re... they’re monsters!” one of the orcs stammers before turning tail and fleeing.

The others quickly follow suit, weapons clattering to the ground as they scramble to escape.

“Yeah, run!” Gris shouts after them, still gripping her bloodied sword. “Cowards!”

“Let them go,” you say, wiping sweat from your brow. “We’ve sent our message. Let’s move before they regroup.”

“Damn right,” Caleb mutters. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

As your group prepares to move, a shadow falls over you. Looking up, you see Nabi descending gracefully from the sky. His eyes scan the scene, and he lands nearby with a low rumble.

The kobold, ever the opportunist, leaps from the wagon and scurries to the fallen orc, snatching the alarm horn.

Before anyone can object, Nabi grips the kobold gently but firmly in his massive claw. With a powerful beat of his wings, he soars into the sky, carrying the kobold with him.

“What the—!” Gris exclaims.

From above, the kobold begins gleefully blowing the orc’s horn at random intervals, the eerie notes echoing across the forest.

Caleb smirks. “Now that should delay them. Nice touch, Nabi.”

You take your wagon through the night, only stopping to rest when the first rays of dawn begin to filter through the trees.

“Alright, folks,” you say, your voice heavy with exhaustion. “We’ll rest a while, then push on. We’ve got to reach that city.”

The party collapses into a makeshift camp, too tired to do more than settle into a light sleep.

Hours later, Nabi returns, descending once again. This time, he releases the kobold, who tumbles to the ground unharmed, clutching the horn like a prized treasure. Nabi lets out a soft growl, as if satisfied with the outcome, before soaring away into the clouds.

>>6144894

“Welcome back, buddy,” Gris says, patting the kobold’s head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

The kobold just grins, baring its teeth.

After a couple more days of travel, the dense forest gives way to open fields. Ahead, you finally spot the city: a towering bastion of stone and steel, nestled between rolling hills and a sparkling river.

The city walls rise high, their surface reinforced with metal plating to withstand siege weapons. Guard towers are spaced evenly along the perimeter, each manned by vigilant sentries. The city gates—massive slabs of oak bound with iron—stand open, allowing a steady stream of travelers, merchants, and farmers to come and go.

Within, the skyline is dominated by a tall, spiral-shaped tower of white stone that reflects the sunlight like a beacon. Beneath it, the bustling city streets are alive with activity. Vendors hawk their wares from colorful stalls, while street performers entertain clusters of onlookers.

The smell of fresh bread and roasted meat wafts through the air, mingling with the faint tang of coal smoke from the forges. On the far side of the city, the river glitters, its surface dotted with boats ferrying goods and passengers.

“Now that’s a city,” says Gris, her voice filled with awe.

“And one that seems well-guarded,” Caleb adds. “Let’s hope they’ll take that mayor’s message seriously.”

You glance at your companions, weary but determined. “Alright, everyone. Let’s head in. We’ve got work to do.”

>>6144895


As your party approaches the towering gates, a guard clad in polished chainmail steps forward. His tabard, emblazoned with the city’s sigil—a golden phoenix rising above a river—marks him as a member of the Civic Sentinels, the city’s elite guard.

“State your purpose in Corvalis, travelers,” he demands, his voice firm but not unkind.

You explain your mission to deliver the mayor’s request for aid, and after some deliberation, the guard nods.

“You’re free to enter, but be warned: Corvalis has laws, and we enforce them strictly. Here, take this.”

He hands you a map of the city and a neatly folded parchment detailing the laws and customs. As you glance at the map, the layout of Corvalis unfolds before you, revealing a city of intricate districts, each with its own unique flavor and purpose:
1. The Spire District
Dominated by the Spire of Kings, this district is the political heart of Corvalis.
- Landmarks: The Spire of Kings, Council Hall, and the Grand Archive.
- Notable Inhabitants: Nobles, bureaucrats, and scholars.
- Laws: Strict curfews after dark; only those with permits can approach the Spire.
2. The River Market
A bustling hub of commerce situated along the riverbank.
- Landmarks: The Merchant Plaza, the Fishmongers’ Wharf, and the Floating Bazaar.
- Notable Inhabitants: Traders, fishermen, and artisans.
- Laws: Haggling is allowed but cheating is punished harshly. No weapons are permitted in the market.
3. The Iron Quarter
The industrial powerhouse of the city, filled with forges and workshops.
- Landmarks: The Black Anvil Foundry and the Steamworks Depot.
- Notable Inhabitants: Blacksmiths, engineers, and laborers.
- Laws: No unauthorized magic or fire spells; noise restrictions apply after sundown.
4. The Common Gardens
A residential area with parks and communal spaces, mostly for the working class.
- Landmarks: The People’s Park and the Shrine of the Open Sky.
- Notable Inhabitants: Farmers, merchants, and everyday citizens.
- Laws: Public drunkenness is fined, and disturbing the peace is not tolerated.
5. The Velvet Steps
The city’s entertainment district, known for its theaters, taverns, and brothels.
- Landmarks: The Velvet Theater, the Golden Harp Tavern, and the Moonlit Courtesan.
- Notable Inhabitants: Performers, bards, and night workers.
- Laws: Fights are strictly forbidden; all establishments pay a tax to the city.

>>6144896

6. The Mage’s Enclave
A secluded district where magic is studied and regulated.
- Landmarks: The Arcane Collegium and the Celestial Observatory.
- Notable Inhabitants: Mages, alchemists, and apprentices.
- Laws: Unauthorized magic is forbidden, and non-mages must have permission to enter.
7. The Stone Bastion
A heavily fortified district housing the city’s military and its prison.
- Landmarks: The Bastion Keep and the Hall of Blades.
- Notable Inhabitants: Soldiers, guards, and prisoners.
- Laws: Unauthorized entry is punishable by imprisonment; only soldiers and officials are allowed to carry weapons openly.
8. The Sunset Heights
An affluent district perched on a hill, offering stunning views of the city.
- Landmarks: The Golden Lantern Inn and the Serene Bathhouses.
- Notable Inhabitants: Wealthy merchants, retired adventurers, and aristocrats.
- Laws: Trespassing is a serious crime; beggars are not allowed in this district.
9. The Shadow Warren
A labyrinthine network of alleys and tunnels, known for its black markets.
- Landmarks: The Broken Coin Tavern and the Silent Market.
- Notable Inhabitants: Rogues, smugglers, and outcasts.
- Laws: The guard rarely ventures here, but theft and murder are still punishable by execution if caught.
10. The Gate District
The entryway to the city, bustling with newcomers and traders.
- Landmarks: The Guardhouse, Traveler’s Rest Inn, and the Caravan Square.
- Notable Inhabitants: Merchants, travelers, and city guards.
- Laws: All visitors must register their names and goods upon entry; suspicious individuals are subject to questioning.

>>6144897


The gates of Corvalis loomed ahead, and as your party approached, a second burly guard stepped forward, clutching a leather-bound ledger. His face was carved into a permanent scowl, eyes sweeping over your group with measured suspicion.

“Halt! Names and professions for the city records. No exceptions. If you don’t have a role to play in the city, you’ll be marked as troublemakers—or worse.” His glare was particularly sharp, daring anyone to test him.

The bard, ever eager, stepped forward first, bowing theatrically. “Salen, bard extraordinaire! I weave tales, strum hearts, and lift spirits. At your service.”

The guard’s expression didn’t change as he jotted down the name. “Salen. Bard. Fine. Next.”

Gris strode up with her usual blunt confidence. “Gris. Mercenary.”

The guard raised an eyebrow, his quill hesitating. “Mercenary, huh? Who’s your employer?”

Gris crossed her arms. “Whoever pays. You looking to hire, or just being nosy?”

The guard grunted but scribbled “Mercenary” into the ledger, his lips twitching in what might have been amusement. “Next.”

Caleb stepped forward. “Caleb. Retired soldier.”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “Retired, huh? Well, just keep whatever got you retired away from *my* city.”

Zamora followed, her hood low over her face. “Zamora. Apothecary.”

The guard paused, glancing at her belt full of potions. “An apothecary, eh? You better not be selling poison. We’ll know if you are.”

Zamora’s voice was smooth, her tone unshaken. “Only remedies, I assure you.”

The guard moved his gaze to the kobold. He stood stock still, wide-eyed and silent.

“What about this one? Does it speak, or is it just tagging along?”

The kobold looked at you, his panic plain.

You stepped in quickly. “Quicktail. Assistant. Handles logistics, carries supplies, sets up camp. He’s essential to our group.”

The guard scoffed, looking the kobold up and down. “An ‘assistant,’ huh? Sounds suspicious. If it doesn’t talk, it’s probably a thief. Mark my words, if this one causes trouble—”

“He won’t,” you interrupted firmly. “He’s harmless.”

The guard snorted but finally scribbled “Quicktail. Assistant” into the ledger.

Then his eyes landed on you. “And you? Leader of this little band? Name and profession.”

>>6144898

With Nabi nowhere nearby, you had to think fast. “Eve. Courier.”

“Courier?” The guard arched a skeptical brow.

“Yes. I deliver goods and messages across dangerous territory. That’s why I’ve got them with me,” you said, motioning to the others. “For protection. And to get the job done.”

He studied you for a moment, his quill hovering, before finally nodding. “Fine. Eve. Courier. If you’ve got deliveries to make, don’t cause delays or trouble while you’re here.”

As the guard continues to jot down the names and professions of the group, Ruth and Megara exchange a quick glance. With a shared look of mischief, they step forward together.

"We’re entertainers," Ruth declares with a confident smile, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Yes," Megara adds, twirling her staff a bit for flair. "We specialize in performances, songs, and a bit of magic here and there to spice things up."

The guard raises an eyebrow, clearly unsure what to make of their answers. "Entertainers, huh?" he grumbles, but his expression softens slightly as he looks them both up and down, sensing no immediate trouble. "Well, as long as you don’t cause a ruckus in the city, I suppose that’s fine. Just remember, we don’t take kindly to performances that disturb the peace."

"We’ll be on our best behavior," Ruth says with a wink, nudging Megara. "You won’t even know we’re here. Promise."

Megara simply nods with a grin. "We’ll keep the noise to a minimum. Maybe a little song here and there, but nothing too rowdy."

The guard seems to think for a moment before giving a shrug. "Alright, just remember the laws of the Velvet Steps if you decide to entertain there. Fights are strictly forbidden, and you’ll need to pay the entertainment tax."

"Understood," Ruth says with a mock salute, adding, "But I’m sure we’ll find the perfect spot to perform."

The guard lets out a sigh, scribbling down their professions before turning to the others.

With that, he snapped the ledger shut. “Welcome to Corvalis. Follow the laws, keep your heads down, and don’t let me regret letting you in. Move along.”

As the gates creaked open, the sprawling city of Corvalis came into view, its districts bustling with activity. The guard stood to the side, his eyes lingering on your group until you were well out of earshot.

As you pass under the gate, the sprawling city opens up before you, its districts teeming with life and activity. Your party exchanges glances, taking in the daunting complexity of the metropolis.

“Where to first?” Gris asks, her eyes scanning the map.

>>6144899
> The Spire District: While the laws are strict and entrance is limited, you might try your luck by delivering a message or petition to one of the scholars or bureaucrats. If you’re lucky, you could get hired as an assistant or errand runner.
> The River Market: If you have goods or services to offer, this is the perfect place to try your hand at haggling and selling. You could also work as a courier for the traders or offer security to merchants who deal with high-value items.
> The Iron Quarter: Work here as a laborer or apprentice in one of the many workshops, or offer your services as muscle to help transport heavy goods. If you have a knack for repairs, you could also assist in maintaining the machinery and tools.
> The Common Gardens: Help the local residents with odd jobs like gardening, construction, or deliveries. You may also be able to find work as a town guard or offer protection services to those who live in the area.
> The Velvet Steps: The bard can perform in various taverns, inns, or theaters, earning tips and possibly building a fanbase. If you’re looking for something less glamorous, consider becoming a bouncer or bodyguard for one of the establishments.
> The Mage’s Enclave: If you have any magical aptitude or alchemical knowledge, you might be able to find work as an apprentice or assistant to one of the many mages or alchemists. If not, you could offer your protection services to the magic users in exchange for access to rare magical items or knowledge.
> The Stone Bastion: While it’s unlikely you’ll be able to simply wander in, if you’ve come to the city on a mission, you could deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the military officials. Alternatively, you could offer your services as mercenaries or scouts to help the military deal with threats outside the city walls.
> The Sunset Heights: You could try to sell your services to the wealthy residents or work as a personal guard or servant. For those less inclined to polite work, this area could also be a great place to seek out high-profile targets for theft or extortion.
> The Shadow Warren: The shady atmosphere makes this a prime place to find work as a thief, smuggler, or information broker. If you're skilled in the arts of subterfuge, you might also be able to gain favor with the underworld and rise through the ranks.
> The Gate District: If you’re new to the city, this is the perfect place to register and set up. You could also offer your services as a guide or interpreter for other travelers. If you’re feeling more ambitious, this is also where you can find work as a guard or hireling for caravan protection.
> The Sewers: a massive city like this one must have an entire underground city for sewers, you could delve into this underworld and try to make a living there.
> Write in

>>6144901
> The Stone Bastion: While it’s unlikely you’ll be able to simply wander in, if you’ve come to the city on a mission, you could deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the military officials. Alternatively, you could offer your services as mercenaries or scouts to help the military deal with threats outside the city walls.
We have a message to deliver, and military guys seem like they'd be the ones to jump on this kind of news.

>>6144901
> The Stone Bastion: While it’s unlikely you’ll be able to simply wander in, if you’ve come to the city on a mission, you could deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the military officials. Alternatively, you could offer your services as mercenaries or scouts to help the military deal with threats outside the city walls

Sounds about right since we don't have a permit for the Spire. Just gotta hide the weapons or put them away for safe keeping.

>>6144901
> The Stone Bastion: While it’s unlikely you’ll be able to simply wander in, if you’ve come to the city on a mission, you could deliver the mayor’s request for aid to the military officials. Alternatively, you could offer your services as mercenaries or scouts to help the military deal with threats outside the city walls.
We don’t have to all go, we can leave our weapons with Ruth and Megara

>>6144910
>>6144918
>>6145190


After leaving your weapons with Ruth and Megara, you watch them guide the wagon away toward the Velvet Steps. Ruth waves cheerfully. "Find us at the Velvet Steps! We’ll get an inn, stash the gear, and maybe earn some coin with a performance."

Megara adds, "Don't get arrested. Or killed. Either would ruin our plans."

With their laughter fading into the distance, you make your way toward the imposing gates of the **Stone Bastion**, the city’s military district. The air grows heavier as you approach, thick with the clang of metal and the bark of orders. At the gates, a stoic soldier in polished armor steps forward to block your path. His gaze is sharp and unwavering.

“Halt. State your business in the Bastion,” he demands, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

You explain with measured urgency, “We bear a request for aid from the mayor of a nearby village. They are under threat from orcish raiders.”

The soldier snorts, his skepticism clear. “Villages around here are *always* whining for help. Bandits, wild animals, a bit of bad weather—they come crying to us for everything.”

Before you can respond, the bard steps in smoothly. “This isn’t just a raid. It’s a full-blown *invasion*. Orcish war bands, wolf riders, and even wyvern riders. They’ve already overwhelmed the messengers sent to warn you.”

The soldier’s face shifts from indifference to alarm. "Wyverns?" he mutters, and then straightens his posture. “Follow me.”

He leads you into the bustling heart of the Bastion. The smell of sweat and iron fills the air, recruits drilling in tight formations, their movements punctuated by sharp shouts from instructors. You’re handed white sashes, which the soldier explains are visitor identification.

“Don’t lose these,” he says curtly. “No sash, no passage.”

He then escorts you through the labyrinthine corridors to the officer’s quarters. Stopping outside an imposing oak door, he raps sharply. A gruff voice calls from within.

“Come in. I like my bad news firsthand.”

Inside, a man in his forties, his uniform decorated with the insignia of a lieutenant, looks up from a desk littered with maps and reports. His eyes narrow as he sizes you up.

“Well? What’s so urgent?”

>>6145284
The bard steps forward with a practiced flourish, his voice steady yet tinged with urgency. He begins weaving the tale with dramatic precision, his words painting vivid pictures for the lieutenant.

"Lieutenant, this is no ordinary plea for help," he says, his voice commanding the room's attention. "The village to the east is not merely raided—it is *besieged*. Orcs, emboldened and unnervingly organized, have taken to the field with more than crude weapons and brute strength. They have riders mounted on wolves, swift and merciless, and wyverns screeching across the skies. They strike with precision and ferocity, the likes of which I've never seen."

The bard pauses for effect, letting the weight of his words sink in. Then, leaning slightly forward, he continues, “The mayor sent messengers days ago. None made it. The orcs intercepted them, silencing their pleas before they could reach you. And their leader—oh, their leader—isn’t just some brutish chieftain. He commands discipline. Strategy. This is no rabble.”

He gestures to the kobold, who has been quietly clutching the orcish horn with both claws. At the bard’s cue, the kobold hesitates briefly, glancing around nervously, before stepping forward and holding the object out toward the lieutenant. The horn is worn but intimidating, carved with jagged patterns and adorned with crude metal bands. The lieutenant takes it, his hands steady but his face tense.

“This,” the bard continues, his voice low and somber, “was sounded by their patrols. It called to others—wolf riders, we believe. They responded swiftly, like wolves to a kill. This was no chaotic call. It was deliberate, calculated.”

The lieutenant turns the horn over in his hands, inspecting its rugged craftsmanship. His expression hardens, his jaw tightening. The deep lines on his face grow sharper as he studies the relic of the orcish war effort.

“This isn’t just a raid,” he mutters, half to himself, the grim reality dawning on him. “They’re preparing for something bigger.”

>>6145285


He places the horn on his desk with a heavy thud, as though its weight matched the gravity of the news. Looking back at you, his voice grows firm. “If they’ve rallied this kind of force, they’re a threat to more than just the villages. They’re testing our borders, gauging our defenses.”

His sharp gaze shifts between you all, and the room feels heavier with the implications of your story. The silence that follows is thick, broken only by the faint sound of drills echoing from outside the window.

The officer rises to his feet, his jaw set. “I’ll alert my superiors immediately. If these orcs are bold enough to field wyvern riders, they’re a threat to more than just the villages. I’ll volunteer to lead a detachment east myself, though it is unclear whether they will send me or someone else. You’ve done well bringing this to our attention. The city owes you a debt of thanks.”

He salutes briskly. “I am Lieutenant Dreyfus. If you need anything while in the Bastion, tell the guards my name. They’ll see you through.”

The room falls silent, and the lieutenant’s piercing gaze shifts back to you.

> Thank him, leave the Bastion and go elsewhere (choose).
> Tell him we are newcomers in town looking for jobs.
> Ask if we could enlist in the army.
> Demand payment for our troubles.
> Offer to join the war effort.
> Write in.

>>6145286
> Offer to join the war effort.
Total orc death

>>6145337


As you rise to declare your intention to aid in the war effort, the bard's voice rings out with conviction, “We’ve seen the enemy firsthand, Lieutenant. If the city’s going to stand a chance, we’re ready to do our part.”

Lieutenant Dreyfus regards you for a moment, his steely gaze lingering. A faint smirk plays on his lips, though his expression remains stern. “Aid in the war effort, you say? Since you’re such skilled couriers, I have just the mission for you. And trust me, it’s no simple errand.”

He turns, retrieving a parchment map from his desk, and spreads it across the table. Tapping a finger on the northernmost edge, he continues, “There’s a runemaster who resides far to the north, a reclusive genius. He has the knowledge to forge weapons that are particularly devastating against orcs. If this conflict drags on for years—and it very well might—we’ll need him here in Corvalis. He could tip the scales in our favor.”

The lieutenant straightens, his tone growing sharper. “However, convincing him to return won’t be easy. He’s not the kind to follow orders, and his whereabouts aren’t exactly well-known. The last we heard, he may still be in the region, but you’ll have to start your search here in the city.”

He pauses, fixing you with a piercing look. “He has family in Corvalis—a younger sister named Dahlia. She works in the Velvet Steps district. If anyone knows where to find him, it’s her.”

>>6145433
The room falls silent for a moment before Dreyfus reaches into his desk and pulls out a small leather pouch. The clink of coins is unmistakable as he tosses it onto the table. “Take this—100 gold—for your troubles. Consider it an advance. There will be more waiting for you when you bring the runemaster back to the city.”

The weight of the pouch feels reassuring in your hand, a tangible reminder of the seriousness of the task. “Anything else we should know about this runemaster?” the bard asks.

Dreyfus nods grimly. “He’s a man of intellect, not loyalty. He’ll need a reason to come back. His sister may be key to persuading him—or she might be nothing but a dead end. Either way, you’re resourceful. You’ll figure it out. And don’t waste time. Every day we wait, the enemy grows bolder.”

With that, he gestures to a nearby soldier, who steps forward crisply. “Escort them out of the district,” he orders.

As you leave the officer’s quarters, the tension of the Bastion seems to press harder against your shoulders, the clang of drills and marching soldiers echoing around you. The soldier leads you back to the district gates, where the familiar chaos of the city resumes.

The group huddles briefly, the weight of the mission pressing on everyone’s mind.

What do you do next?
> Go look for Dahlia, the runemaster's sister, in the Velvet Steps.
> Go meet with Ruth and Megara in the Velvet Steps.
> Go look for ways to make extra coin in another district.
> Explore another district (choose one).
> Leave the city and begin searching for the runemaster directly.
> Write in.

>>6145434
> Go look for Dahlia, the runemaster's sister, in the Velvet Steps.
> Go meet with Ruth and Megara in the Velvet Steps.
Two, or three, birds with one stone!

>>6145434
> Go look for Dahlia, the runemaster's sister, in the Velvet Steps.
> Go meet with Ruth and Megara in the Velvet Steps.
Well since they are both in the same area why not

>>6145434
> Go look for Dahlia, the runemaster's sister, in the Velvet Steps.
> Go meet with Ruth and Megara in the Velvet Steps.
Ruth and Megara first to keep them in the loop

>>6145542
>>6145556
>>6145716


After navigating the crowded, lantern-lit streets of the Velvet Steps, you find yourself at the entrance to the Golden Harp Tavern. The air inside is thick with smoke and the lively hum of conversation, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the clink of mugs. You scan the room, and your eyes settle on a corner table where a growing crowd surrounds two familiar figures.

Ruth and Megara sit at a gambling table, their faces lit with the flush of success. Ruth leans back confidently, a pile of coins glinting in front of her. Megara, ever composed, plays her cards with a sly smile. The energy around them is electric, drawing onlookers like moths to a flame.

Pushing through the crowd, you call out, “Hey, girls! What’s up?”

Ruth spots you first and grins wide, tossing her cards down. “Well, look who it is! Our noble comrades. About time you showed up!”

Megara smirks, gathering the coins. “We’ve been doing your share of the work, you know. Winning big here, making friends, and keeping the city entertained.”

The crowd murmurs in amusement, clearly taken by their charm.

“We’re wrapping it up now,” Ruth adds, reaching for the winnings. “Always leave while you’re ahead.”

“Oh no, no, no,” interjects the dealer, a sharp-eyed man with a slick grin. “You can’t leave yet. One last round. All or nothing. I insist.”

The crowd cheers, urging them on. Ruth hesitates, her hand hovering over the pile of gold. “What do you think?” she asks, glancing at you.

Megara raises an eyebrow. “I’ve seen this before. It’s how they try to get it all back in one go.”

The dealer laughs, spreading his hands. “Or, it’s how you walk away with a fortune, legends in the making! Come on, just one last game. Make it a story for the ages.”

The crowd roars again, the tension palpable. Ruth glances at the gold pile again, her eyes sparkling, then looks to you, clearly torn. “Well? What’s the call?”

> Play an all-or-nothing round. Ruth and Megara are game if you are, ready to risk it all.
> Bet only half your money. Keep it cautious and play strategically.
> Play just another regular deal. A less risky compromise, but the dealer might insist otherwise.
> Pay a round of booze for everyone. Charm the crowd and call it a win without gambling further.
> Grab your earnings and get out of here. Ruth and Megara leave with their winnings, ignoring the crowd’s pleas.
> Write in

>>6145723
> Pay a round of booze for everyone. Charm the crowd and call it a win without gambling further.
Eve only gambles big if the lives of her companions need it to survive.

>>6145734


The crowd at the Golden Harp Tavern roars with encouragement, their excitement buzzing like an electric current in the smoky, ale-soaked air. Ruth and Megara sit at the center of it all, the focus of every gaze as the dealer leans in with a grin that practically oozes confidence.

“Come on, one last game,” the dealer says, his words practically dripping with bait. “All or nothing. Make tonight unforgettable.”

Ruth’s hand hovers near the stack of coins. “What do you think?” she asks, her expression a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Before she can decide, you step forward, raising your voice above the din. “How about this—we call it a night and I pay for a round of drinks for everyone here?”

There’s a brief silence, the dealer looking visibly disappointed. But the crowd quickly erupts into cheers at the mention of free booze. Ruth and Megara exchange glances, and then Ruth lets out a dramatic sigh.

“Alright, alright, you’re no fun,” she teases, sweeping the coins into a small pouch. “Guess we’ll take our winnings and leave before we turn into cautionary tales.”

Megara smirks. “Smart call. We leave with our pockets full, and the crowd leaves drunk and happy. Everyone wins.”

The dealer scowls but says nothing as you toss a handful of coins to a passing barmaid, instructing her to keep the drinks flowing. The patrons cheer louder, and mugs are raised in your honor as the festive atmosphere dials up another notch.

With the crowd distracted by their new libations, you take the opportunity to move discreetly through the room, asking questions about Dahlia. Most responses are shrugs or mumbled apologies.

“Never heard of her.”
“No Dahlia here, friend.”
“Try the Common Gardens, maybe?”

You’re beginning to think your search will end in frustration when, as the crowd begins to settle, a young woman sidles up to you. She’s slight, with sharp features and eyes that dart nervously around the room.

“You were asking about Dahlia?” she says in a low voice, barely audible over the tavern’s noise.

>>6145782
You nod. “You know her?”

The girl hesitates, biting her lip. “I knew a Dahlia once. She works at the Moonlit Courtesan now. Goes by Lena these days. High-class clientele, you understand. She’s… well, she’s someone important there.” She pauses, glancing down. “Used to work there myself, before... things changed.”

You study her for a moment, noting the flicker of something—shame? Pride?—that crosses her face. Without a word, you press a few coins into her palm. Her fingers curl over them, and she looks up at you with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you say softly. “For the information.”

The girl nods quickly, then slips back into the crowd, vanishing in the crowd as quietly as she’d appeared.

Zamora, who’s been lingering at the edge of the group, steps closer. Her voice is calm but firm. “We’re drawing too much attention,” she murmurs. “The gambling, the drinks—it’s all eyes on us now. We should scatter, regroup later. A week from now, here, when things have cooled down.”

Ruth raises an eyebrow. “Scatter? What’s the fun in that?”

“It’s practical,” Zamora replies, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ve all seen what happens when a group like ours makes too much noise in a city like this.”

The group falls into a contemplative silence as the noise of the tavern swirls around you.

> Head to the Moonlit Courtesan to talk to Dahlia/Lena. Decide who will go—discretion might be key.
> Pay the girl to arrange a meeting with Dahlia/Lena somewhere neutral. Avoid the high-profile Courtesan altogether.
> Take Zamora’s advice. Disband and meet here in a week. Everyone goes their separate ways for now.
> Stay with Ruth and Megara to discuss magic. Use the time to strategize and plan.
> We’re not in a hurry—go look for a job elsewhere. Earn some coin before pursuing Dahlia/Lena.
> Write in.

>>6145783
> Take Zamora’s advice. Disband and meet here in a week. Everyone goes their separate ways for now.
No reason we can’t get some work done though

Task the bard with
> Head to the Moonlit Courtesan to talk to Dahlia/Lena. Decide who will go—discretion might be key.

We will
> Stay with Ruth and Megara to discuss magic. Use the time to strategize and plan.
Instead of completely splitting up - lets us help them if something happens, figure they’d be the main targets after the big gambling win

The decision to disband is made after some deliberation. With the growing attention from the tavern crowd and the need for discretion, scattering seems like the wisest course. “We’ll meet back here in a week,” you announce, your tone firm. “Until then, keep a low profile and don’t do anything reckless.”

The bard nods, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Guess that makes me the envoy to the Moonlit Courtesan. I’ll dig up what I can about Dahlia—Lena, whatever she’s going by now.”

“Don’t draw too much attention to yourself,” Zamora warns. Her gaze lingers on the bard, her expression uncharacteristically stern. “We can’t afford another public spectacle.”

With that, the group begins to scatter. Zamora fades into the shadows of the district, muttering something about gathering supplies. The bard tips an imaginary hat before striding off toward the Courtesan. You, however, decide to stick with Ruth and Megara for now. Their carefree attitudes might be a liability, but their sharp minds and magical prowess make them invaluable allies.

Ruth and Megara rent a spacious room at the Golden Harp Tavern, tossing a pouch of coins to the innkeeper with a casual air. “Money that comes easy goes easy,” Ruth quips, jingling the remaining coins in her hand. “Might as well make sure we’re comfortable.”

“Not planning on venturing too far, anyway,” Megara adds. “With our recent winnings, we’ll be prime targets for anyone looking to score an easy payday. Safer to stay put.”

The room is modest but well-furnished, with sturdy wooden furniture and a generous window overlooking the bustling Velvet Steps district. As the three of you settle in, the weight of recent events begins to dissipate, replaced by the quiet focus of planning.

At last, you pull out the documents looted from the troll’s lair—an act that feels like it happened in another lifetime. The parchments and tomes are weathered, their edges curled with age and grime. Ruth and Megara lean in, their curiosity piqued.

“These aren’t just random scribbles,” Megara murmurs, her fingers skimming over the jagged runes etched into one of the pages. “This troll knew a thing or two about the dark arts. There’s power here, dangerous power.”

Ruth snorts, flipping through another tome. “Not surprising. This sort of magic is bound to be illegal in most places, but a city like this? Pretty permissive, if you ask me. We can sell what we don’t need to the local wizardry circles—they’ll pay good coin for it.”

You nod, intrigued. “If we’re going to sell any of this, we should be careful. But before that, I need to learn more about these spells. Offensive magic could come in handy.”

Ruth raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You? Offensive magic? I thought you were all about those simple rituals.”

“I am,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “But it’s time to expand my repertoire. What do you have?”

>>6145830
Megara’s eyes light up. “We know a few spells that could suit you. We can teach you the runes, and if the three of us cast together, the results can be… impressive.”

Ruth begins listing them off, her tone casual yet precise.

“There’s one that freezes water. Useful in more ways than you’d think.

“Another can ignite flammable objects in range—simple but effective.

“We’ve got a beam of energy, direct and powerful.

“Then there’s a protective barrier that not only blocks attacks but damages anything that tries to pass through it. If the three of us cast it together, it pulls enemies back with the strength of several men.

“And finally, there’s a curse. A nasty one. It boils the target under their skin. Slow to take effect, but devastating if you can give it time.”

Megara leans back, her eyes glinting with amusement. “So, what’ll it be? Choose wisely, and we’ll get started on those runes.”

Ruth grins, tossing you a piece of chalk. “Your turn to pick. Let’s see what kind of magician you really are.”


> Water Freezing: Learn to manipulate water to freeze it solid in combat or otherwise.
> Ignite Flammable: A practical spell that sets anything combustible ablaze.
> Energy Beam: Direct and destructive, perfect for a quick attack.
> Protective Barrier: Defensive and versatile, with offensive potential when cast as a group.
> Boil Hex: A slow but horrifyingly effective curse for taking down tough opponents.
> Write In: Suggest a unique spell idea or request further details on one.

>>6145832
> Water Freezing: Learn to manipulate water to freeze it solid in combat or otherwise.
Very versatile.

>>6145832
> Water Freezing: Learn to manipulate water to freeze it solid in combat or otherwise.
That is pretty handy. Also suitable since Eve is descended from the southern Ice Witches.

> Write In: Dragon Transformation
The Quest is called Dragon Girl Quest after all. Though maybe its more like a partial transformation for specific parts like wings incase a full transformation would make it hard to remember who she is.

That said, I'd love some Grease and a Heat Metal spells.

>>6145832
> Ignite Flammable: A practical spell that sets anything combustible ablaze.
You know, organic bodies are combustible…

>>6145844
>>6145872
>>6146073


“I would like to learn the runes for Water Freezing,” you declare, your voice steady but laced with determination.

Ruth raises an eyebrow and exchanges a glance with Megara. “Ambitious,” Megara says, a hint of approval in her tone.

“Very well,” Ruth adds with a smirk. “Then let’s get to it. But I’ll warn you—these are *difficult* runes. If you’re not careful, the spell could fizzle out or, worse, backfire.”

Megara gestures to a cleared space on the floor, already marked with faint chalk lines. “Grab some chalk. You’re going to need a lot of practice.”

The week passes in a blur of intense training. The three of you spend hours bent over the tomes and practicing the intricate runes, your hands smudged with chalk and your mind buzzing with focus. Ruth and Megara take turns demonstrating the proper strokes and chanting the incantations, their movements fluid and precise.

“You’re getting better,” Ruth says on the third day, watching as you carefully inscribe the final rune in a sequence. “But ‘better’ won’t cut it in a fight. You need to feel the magic flow through you—not just draw the shapes.”

Megara nods. “Focus, Eve. This spell isn’t just about freezing water. It’s about control. Harnessing the natural chaos of magic and bending it to your will.”

The runes are more complex than you anticipated, each line and curve requiring absolute precision. By the fifth day, your fingers ache from hours of practice, and your head pounds from the sheer mental effort. On more than one occasion, the spell fizzles out, leaving only a faint chill in the air.

Roll 7d100 DC 80. You need at least three successes to learn the spell.

(You may add a +20 bonus to one roll by expending the magical energy gained from the moon ritual.)

>>6146080
On the final day of training, the three of you reconvene at the Golden Harp Tavern. The air is thick with the scent of roasted meat and ale, the din of patrons filling the room. Your companions trickle in, each bringing news of their week.

Caleb is the first to arrive. He looks more composed than before, his ghoul-like pallor offset by a determined gleam in his eyes. “I found an old martial arts master,” he announces. “Been training with him all week. He’s… tough, but I’m learning. Feels good to fight with focus instead of just… instinct.”

Zamora steps in next, her arms laden with small satchels of herbs and vials. “I’ve partnered with a local apothecary,” she says, her tone businesslike. “They’re willing to trade ingredients and knowledge. It’s a good deal for us—especially if we need potions.”

Gris stumbles in shortly after, his steps unsteady and his breath reeking of liquor. “I went outside,” he says with a grin, his words slightly slurred. “Also ventured into the sewers. Met some important people. Oh, and hear me out—you don’t *actually* need a license to work for the mages here. I made a few contacts in the wizard guild. We’re in.”

Salen strides in last, his expression serious. He takes a seat and gestures for quiet before speaking. “I investigated Lena,” he begins. “Managed to speak with her. She confirmed that she hasn’t seen her brother in years but knows he’s alive. Apparently, he made a charm for their mother that lets the wearer sense his general direction and whether he’s alive.”

“That’s promising,” Ruth interjects. “Did you get it?”

Salen shakes his head. “I tried to buy the charm, but she refused. Said it’s a family heirloom and won’t part with it. I also asked if she’d join us, but she declined.”

The mood in the room shifts as the group processes his words. “That charm could save us days—maybe weeks—of searching,” Megara says. “But it sounds like she’s not budging.”

Notably absent is the kobold. You glance toward the door, half-expecting him to scurry in late. But minutes pass, and there’s no sign of him.

What do you do next?

> Go look for the kobold. His absence is unusual and concerning.
> Try to convince Lena to hand over the charm. Perhaps persuasion—or leverage—will change her mind.
> Get a job with the wizard guild. Gris’s contacts could provide valuable resources.
> Meet Caleb’s new teacher. The martial arts master might offer unique training or insights.
> Scatter again. Another week of downtime might strengthen the group further.
> Write in.

Rolled 85, 63, 53, 33, 8, 40, 64 = 346 (7d100)

>>6146080
rollan, I guess add the +20 to one if we need it? Maybe we can try Dragon Transformation Magic next time...

>>6146092
Damn, even if we did it add to one would only be two successes.

>>6146081
> Go look for the kobold. His absence is unusual and concerning.
No man, or kobold, left behind.

>>6146092
>>6146094
>>6146096


“How was your training in magic?”, asks Caleb.

“Not good. I haven't mastered the spell I've been trying to learn yet.”

"Well, you should keep trying.”

“The kobold's late," you mutter, your gaze drifting toward the door.

Caleb shrugs, leaning back in his chair. "He probably just got lost. The city's huge. Wanna go look for him?"

You nod, pushing yourself to your feet. "Yeah, let’s go. The longer we wait, the more trouble he could be getting into."

The two of you wander through the busy streets, stopping passersby and shopkeepers to ask about a kobold fitting your companion’s description. Most people shake their heads or ignore you entirely.

“No luck,” Caleb sighs, wiping his brow. “If he didn’t stand out already, his height would’ve done it. Someone *must’ve* seen him.”

Eventually, a shopkeeper at the edge of the Shadow Warren district offers a vague lead. “A kobold? Sure, there are a bunch of ’em in there,” he says, waving toward the district’s entrance—a chaotic sprawl of tight alleys and ramshackle buildings.

Caleb frowns, eyeing the maze-like district warily. “You think he went to mingle with his kind?”

You shrug. “Maybe. But… this place looks shady as hell. I’m not thrilled about diving in there without a plan.”

“Same,” Caleb mutters. “Let’s keep looking for now.”

Further down the road, you stop to ask a young girl selling flowers if she’s seen a kobold. She nods enthusiastically. “Oh, I saw one earlier—by the sewer entrance down that way. He was with some other kobolds.”

>>6146305
You thank her and head toward the sewer entrance. The smell hits you before you even see the source—a crude wooden stall piled high with fish. Sure enough, a kobold is standing there, loudly hawking his wares in a language you don’t understand.

All the fish smell awful—some even look slimy with decay. Caleb wrinkles his nose. “How the hell haven’t the guards arrested him for selling *that*?”

You approach cautiously. “Hey, uh, have you seen a kobold around here? About this tall…” You gesture, trying to describe your missing companion.

The stallkeeper looks at you blankly, then starts chattering in a rapid, guttural tongue.

Before you can make sense of it, another kobold clambers out of the sewer hole behind the stall, dumps a fresh batch of fish onto the counter, and scurries back into the darkness.

“Are they fishing in the sewers?” you ask, incredulous.

Caleb leans in, inspecting the pile of fish. “Not all of it’s rotten,” he says after a moment. “Some of these are actually fresh… just, uh, coated in sewage.”

The stallkeeper glares at Caleb as if daring him to say another word. Meanwhile, a few people wander over and *actually* start buying fish.

“Damn,” Caleb mutters, watching a woman hand over a handful of coins. “These people must be desperate.”

“No kidding,” you reply. “But look at the price she paid. They’re selling *way* below market value.”

As you stand there debating whether to delve into the sewers or keep searching elsewhere, you can’t help but feel a growing unease. The kobolds clearly have some sort of operation going on, but is it worth investigating? Or should you go back and gather reinforcements first?

> Go investigate the sewers with Caleb. Dive straight in and see what’s going on.
> Head back to the tavern and call Gris to come with you. She’s been in the sewers before and might know her way around.
> Head back to the tavern and call Zamora. Her darkvision could prove useful in tight spots.
> Go investigate the Shadow Warren district. Maybe your missing kobold ventured there after all.
> It’s pointless. The city’s too big. Give up for now and trust he’ll show up eventually.
> Write in.

>>6146081
>Gris became a man
Woah, when did that happen? just joshing

>>6146306
> Go investigate the Shadow Warren district. Maybe your missing kobold ventured there after all.

>>6146306
>> Head back to the tavern and call Gris to come with you. She’s been in the sewers before and might know her way around.
If you gotta adventure you gotta start with the sewers. Love me Gris and Caleb adventures. I wonder if they Shanghai'd our dear Quicktail into a ridiculous sewer fishing boat tour.

>>6146394
>>6146406

1 - investigate shadow warren district
2 - head back and call Gris

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>6146630

forgot to roll

>>6146632
>>6146630
>>6146406
>>6146394


The Shadow Warren district is as grim and labyrinthine as the rumors suggest. The alleys twist and narrow, the buildings leaning precariously as if ready to collapse under their own weight. Caleb keeps close, his eyes scanning every shadow.

“This place gives me the creeps,” he mutters, stepping carefully to avoid a puddle of questionable origin. “Are we even heading in the right direction?”

You stop to ask a group of loitering locals about kobolds, receiving little more than shrugs and wary glances. Finally, an older woman selling roasted chestnuts gestures with her tongs toward a particularly cramped slum. “They keep to themselves there. Don’t go stirring up trouble.”

The slum is a maze within the maze—alleys so tight you have to squeeze through, the air heavy with the smell of damp earth and decay. Eventually, you come across a small gathering of kobolds, their bright eyes reflecting suspicion as you approach. They chatter among themselves in their guttural tongue, and though you try to speak to them, none seem to understand.

One of them, slightly older and wearing a string of mismatched beads around his neck, steps forward and gestures for you to follow.

“I’m not sure about this,” Caleb whispers, eyeing the kobolds warily. “What if they’re leading us into a trap?”

“They don’t look hostile,” you reply, though your hand doesn’t stray far from your weapon. “Let’s see where this goes.”

You’re led through a winding series of paths, the slum growing darker and quieter with every turn, until you reach a dimly lit chamber that serves as a kind of meeting hall. Seated at the far end is a kobold shaman, his crooked staff adorned with feathers, bones, and small trinkets. Unlike the others, he regards you with calm authority.

>>6146649


“Welcome,” the shaman says in halting but clear human speech. His voice carries an otherworldly rasp, as if he’s unaccustomed to the language. “What brings you to our den?”

You explain that you’re searching for your kobold companion, describing his appearance. The shaman listens intently, nodding along.

“It is likely your friend has been taken,” he says solemnly.

“Taken?” Caleb frowns. “By who?”

“By those who exploit my people,” the shaman replies, his expression darkening. “Kobolds are small, strong, and skilled at digging. Many of my kin have been captured and forced to work in an illegal mine beneath the city. The guards will not help us. They either do not believe our plight… or they have been paid to look the other way.”

“An illegal mine?” you repeat, incredulous. “Why hasn’t anyone done anything about it?”

“Because we are kobolds,” the shaman says simply, his tone heavy with bitterness. “To the humans, we are vermin. Expendable. Your guard force cares little for our suffering.”

You glance at Caleb, who looks grim. “Do you think our friend is down there?”

The shaman nods slowly. “If he has not returned, it is almost certain he is among the captives.”

> Thank the shaman for the information. Express your gratitude and leave for now.
> Ask for a kobold guide. Request someone who can lead you through the sewers to the mine.
> Ask for kobold reinforcements. See if the tribe can provide fighters to help liberate the captives.
> Head to the sewers immediately with Caleb. Time is of the essence.
> Return to the tavern for reinforcements. Bring more of your party before diving in.
> Write in.

>>6146650
> Ask for a kobold guide. Request someone who can lead you through the sewers to the mine.
We'll be right back, chief.

> Return to the tavern for reinforcements. Bring more of your party before diving in.

>>6146650
> Ask for a kobold guide. Request someone who can lead you through the sewers to the mine

> Return to the tavern for reinforcements. Bring more of your party before diving in

My poor little kobold companion getting enslaved.

>>6146656
>>6146660


As the kobold shaman nods, his clawed hand gestures toward a figure shrouded in a worn, oversized cloak standing at the edge of the dim room. "Sahyna will guide you," he says, his tone carrying an air of reverence. "She knows the sewers better than any of us. She also speaks some human tongue."

The cloaked figure steps forward with a grace that seems uncharacteristic for a kobold. Her stature is unusual—taller and more poised than the others. She offers a small, toothy smile but says nothing as she joins you.

"To the sewers now?" she asks, her voice soft but slightly accented.

"Not yet," you reply. "We need to regroup first. We'll head back to a tavern to find our friends and bring reinforcements."

Sahyna tilts her head curiously but shrugs. "Tavern? Sure. Let’s go."

Once outside the Shadow Warren, the tension in the air seems to lift. Sahyna pauses briefly, pulls off her cloak, and folds it neatly before stashing it in her pack. The reveal catches you off guard—her scales shimmer faintly in the sunlight, and her features are striking, almost elegant. Her height and delicate build suggest mixed ancestry, likely with another reptilian race or perhaps something entirely unexpected. You catch Caleb giving her a quick glance of surprise but wisely holding his tongue.

The journey to the tavern is uneventful until you round the corner. The once-bustling street near the Golden Harp is now crawling with guards. Their uniforms gleam in the midday sun, and their presence radiates authority. A group of civilians, some of whom you recognize from earlier, are being lined up and questioned. The tavern itself is roped off, and more guards are emerging from within, hauling out crates of suspicious goods.

Gris stands a safe distance away, waving at you. "They busted some drug operation in the tavern!" she shouts. "They’re questioning *everyone.*"

Before you can respond, a guard turns toward you, his sharp gaze locking on yours. "Hey! You there! Step forward. We’ve got some questions for you!"

You glance at Caleb, who looks just as bewildered as you feel. Then you notice Sahyna out of the corner of your eye. She’s no longer beside you. Turning quickly, you see her slipping into an alley, her movements swift and practiced.

You're at a crossroads. The guards are closing in, their attention squarely on you. Sahyna has already vanished into the alley, and with the chaos unfolding, you’re sure you have only moments to decide your next move.

> "I don't know anything about drugs!" – Approach the guards and try to talk your way out.
> Step forward calmly. – Allow yourself to be detained and questioned.
> Pursue Sahyna. – You have no time for interrogations; escaping is the priority.
> Run in the opposite direction. – Start sprinting away from the guards and hope for the best.
> Cause a distraction. – Give your bolder friends like Gris time to escape.
> Write in.

>>6146772
>Play the forest-born ingenue
Teehee, we're just a silly hillbilly girl who don't know nothing about nothing, nosiree.

>>6146775


You play the part of the forest-born ingénue well, your wide eyes and innocent smile attempting to sell the idea that you’re just another hapless traveler caught up in something you don't understand. The guards, however, seem unmoved by your charm. They drag you, Caleb, and Sahyna — who’s cleverly managed to remain hidden thus far — through the streets and into the cold, stone-walled Bastion, the city's grim prison complex.

The clang of the cell doors echo in your ears as they shove you into a small, dimly lit room. The bars are thick and unyielding, and the smell of damp stone fills the air. You sit there for hours, your mind racing, wondering how long they’ll keep you locked away before they figure out you’re no threat. Time stretches, each minute a slow drip of frustration.

Finally, the door swings open with a loud creak, and a burly guard steps inside. His expression is stern, and his uniform reeks of sweat and authority. "You're up," he grunts, motioning for you to stand.

You do so, eyes fixed on the grim, windowless hallway that leads to whatever interrogation room awaits you. They march you down a narrow passage, the clatter of boots on stone resonating off the walls.

Once inside the cold, sterile room, they push you into a chair and begin their questioning. A tall officer with a sharp nose sits across from you, his pen poised and his eyes sharp.

>>6146852
"What's your name?" he asks, his voice low, but laced with authority.

You give him your name, though it sounds so foreign on your lips in this context. He scribbles something in his notebook before continuing.

"Where do you come from?"

You answer, your voice calm and steady despite the knot of nerves tightening in your stomach. The questions continue—routine, benign at first. But the tension in the room builds, and the questioning becomes sharper, more deliberate.

"Do you know anything about illegal drug activity in this city?" the officer asks, leaning forward slightly, his eyes narrowing.

"No," you reply smoothly, keeping your voice as neutral as possible, "I don't."

A heavy silence follows, and then the officer straightens, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He flips through his notes, then looks at you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"What about a dark elf named Zamora?" he asks, his voice dropping a little as though testing the waters for any sign of recognition. "You know her?"

Your heart skips a beat, but you maintain your composure.

> "She asked for a hike in the road." – You give a simple, nonchalant response, painting her as a traveler with no connection to anything shady.
> "She sheltered from the guards of another town." – You mention her as a victim of circumstance, a fugitive only by necessity, hoping to gain sympathy.
> "I met her at the entrance of the city." – You downplay your connection, presenting her as nothing more than a stranger who passed through.
> "I know she's fleeing from justice, but I think she's innocent." – You attempt to show that you’re empathetic, wanting to portray her as a misunderstood individual rather than a criminal.
> "I don’t know nothing." – You decide to say nothing more, letting the silence linger, forcing them to question their own assumptions.
> Write in.

>>6146853
> Write in.
"She is part of my Courier group currently hired by Lieutenant Dreyfus for the war effort, and she helped bring me back to health after we fought through some orcs to get here a week ago."

>>6147120
+1

>>6146853

>>6146853
>>6147120
Backing
We’re important now

>>6147120
>>6147227
>>6147228


You square your shoulders and meet the officer’s gaze directly. "She’s part of my courier group," you say, your tone steady and measured. "We’re currently under hire by Lieutenant Dreyfus to assist with the war effort. She also saved my life after we fought through a band of orcs to get here about a week ago. If it weren’t for her healing skills, I wouldn’t be sitting here."

The officer narrows his eyes, his pen pausing over the paper as he considers your words. "I’ll need to verify that," he mutters, standing abruptly and leaving the room without another word.

You’re left alone in the cold interrogation room, the minutes stretching into what feels like hours. Your mind churns with possibilities, but you keep yourself calm. The sound of boots echoes through the hallway as the officer finally returns, his expression unreadable.

"Your story checks out," he says curtly, tossing his pen onto the desk. "You’re free to go."

Relief washes over you, but you don’t let it show as you’re escorted back through the winding hallways. Outside the Bastion, your friends are waiting, a mixture of worry and impatience on their faces.

"They just let us all go," Caleb announces, throwing his arms up with a grin.

"I told them we’re working for Lieutenant Dreyfus," you explain with a shrug.

Gris claps you on the back with a laugh. "Nice touch! Bet that put a spark under them."

Your smile fades as you recall the real problem at hand. "But we’ve got an issue. Our kobold friend is probably being enslaved underground in some illegal mining operation as we speak."

Gris’s expression hardens. "Then we’ve got no time to waste. We’ve gotta go free the little dude!"

You glance around and realize Sahyna is missing. "I lost our guide in the confusion," you admit, your frustration evident.

The group exchanges uncertain looks, but Gris crosses her arms, determination flashing in her eyes. "We’ll figure it out. So, what’s the plan?"

> Head straight into the sewers with the whole party. – Charge forward with strength in numbers.
> This crowd is too big, choose who stays and who goes. – A smaller group might move more stealthily.
> Go back to the kobold shaman, see if you can get a new guide. – Try to secure another ally who knows the way.
> Find someone else to guide you into the sewers. – Perhaps a local with knowledge of the underground can help.
> Now that you think about it, you need more preparation. – Decide what’s essential, like gear, potions, or information.
> Write in.

>>6147410
Hey, I just realized: isn't Gris pregnant? I guess it hasn't been very long, but how's she feeling? Should she be partying so hard?

>Ask Gris about the above while we retrace our steps ad hope Sahnya is smart enough to do the same
if she's not, she's a shit guide, but I hope the kobolds wouldn't have recommended a shit guide.

>>6147410
>Head straight into the sewers with the whole party. – Charge forward with strength in numbers.

Death to slavers

>>6147420
It’s been like 2 weeks max since she even tried
Plus it’s a half dragon baby

>>6147410
> Head straight into the sewers with the whole party. – Charge forward with strength in numbers.
Fuck it we ball, not like this is much of a sneaking team anyways. Caleb might be able to just from how pumped with ghoul speed and strength, maybe partial dark vision. Or with some prep time with Zamora to make sleeping potions etc.

I feel Sahyna got spooked might be watching anyways to see what happens, but w.e.

I imagine Gris will have to try many times.

>>6147798
Assuming they didn't "try again" while we were traveling.

>>6147817
Then it would be even less time

>>6147946
Doesn't hurt to check in on our niece/nephew.

File: MV5BOGUzNDk3OTQtYzVmNC00M(...).jpg (240 KB, 640x960)

240 KB JPG

>>6148068
Reminds me of this little gem, Dragon Half.

gonna go on a short hiatus, I'll probably be back next week, a bunch of irl nonsense is consuming too much of my time

>>6149216
It happens. See you next week!

>>6149216
QM curse. Take care and see you then, happy thanksgiving.

>>6149216
QM?

>>6149216
You doing good champ?

>>6149216
Very sad, I was enjoying this and we seemed to have gotten things in some kind of order