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>>6261156
When you came to Shangri-La, it stood proudly in the desert as a testament to the power, wealth, and decadence that the Merchant’s Consortium of Morfis wielded. The infamous “Palace of Debauchery” was where riches were won and lost, all under the watchful gaze of Fortuna, the so-called Goddess of Fortune. In a matter of days, you’d managed to completely turn this legendary Morfis institution into a madhouse, releasing Fortuna, as well as spitting on the offer extended to you by a desperate Consortium. Upon Alvin’s suggestion, you quickly left Shangri-La behind you, and were now headed towards your final destination. The Sorcerer Capital of Morfis was now only a few short days away. Rather than training for the no-doubt rigorous battles that awaited you, you instead had your priorities focused somewhere else.

>“HERE I COME!” You shout, jumping off Fionn to plunge through the air. Your eardrums pop as you fall faster and faster, until you crash into a cool body of water that explodes with a tremendous splash. You sink to the bottom, holding your breath, before kicking your legs and emerging on the surface with a loud gasp.

“Marvelously done, Lord Tristain.” Nadia commends you. Like many of your other companions, she’d stripepd down to her smallclothes, and had joined you in enjoying the cool oasis water.

“Imagine having come all this way, having fought all the battles you’d fought, against foes that include ancient spirits, just to break your neck at the bottom of a pond.” Chelsey sighs, annoyed that your cannonball had splashed her in the face. “Honestly, with your sense of self-preservation, Fortuna must have given you her favor long ago.”

You and your party had left Shangri-La two days ago. Along your travels, you’d come across the oasis that you were currently enjoying. Having seen no signs of any foul-mouthed maidens that were in the habit of collecting axes, you saw fit to pause here for a time and take a break. Every good warrior needed a good rest, and you’d had no shortage of fights that’d seen you bloody and battered. There was only so much healing magic could do. Every now and then, goofing off like this was imperative for one’s mental and physical health.

>“The water’s deep enough, I knew what I was doing. You should learn to stop worrying so much. It’s going to cause you to wrinkle. No one wants to see an old hag dance.”

“You’re such an ass!” Chelsey fumes, splashing you back with water. “I’ll have you know I dance for Lady Bronte and the good of our nation! And I am in no danger of wrinkling any time soon!”

“I’m glad we decided to stop, this is quite nice.” Cassius says. The summoner was in the midst of a backstroke. “Adeline! You should come in!”

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>>6261157
The Armor Knight was sitting at the edge of the water, though she was refusing to join in on the fun. She’d merely splashed a bit of water on her face and called it a day. The way she was sitting there in her armor while everyone was enjoying themselves made you a tad uncomfortable.

“I-I’m okay! Honest!” Adeline shouts back. “You all enjoy yourselves!”

>“What’s her problem?”

May pokes her head up, emerging above the surface with a gasp. The thief latches onto your shoulder, whispering into your ear.

“I think the other girls are making her nervous.” May hushes.

>“Nervous? What for?”

“Look at them!” May says, pointing towards Nadia and Chelsey.

The two of them had no qualms with showing off their considerable assets here in the oasis. They floated without a care in the world, chatting and enjoying the shade provided to them by Fionn above. You suppose that sort of thing came naturally to women who held both confidence as well as a certain level of beauty. While Adeline herself was certainly no slouch when it came to looks, her confidence could certainly be nonexistent at times when it came to anything other than battle.

“What sort of girl wouldn’t be intimidated to get in the water when those two are around?” May asks.

>“Well, you’re in here.”

“Just what are you implying?” May squints her eyes. “I’m really cute too! Just in a different way, you know?”

>“No, I don’t. Women can be so fussy at times. And I’m about to be reunited with the fussiest of them all. I’m sure Bronte simply cannot wait to chew me out the moment she sees me. She’s always loved nothing more than to nag.”

“I can’t wait to meet your cousin!” May exclaims. “I bet she’s got all sorts of stories of what you were like as a kid.”

>“I’m sure the way she tells them would paint me as quite the terror whom she’d have to bail out of all sorts of trouble. Be sure to take it all with a grain of salt.”

“TRISTAIN! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!” Cuthbert shouts from across the oasis. He, along with Alvin, had chosen not to take a dip in the water. Elric hadn’t either. In fact, you hadn’t seen any sign of the boy at all. The last time you’d seen him was when he’d gone into his tent last night, just as you’d set up camp here. He’d usually be up early in the morning, swinging that sword of his.

>“What’s got you in a huff?” You ask, swimming closer to the edge of the water. Few things hardly ever frazzled the veteran spearman, so seeing him in a frenzy like this had your nerves a bit on edge. As you draw closer, you realize he has what looks to be a note in his hand.

“Read this!” He shoves the paper forward. You grab the note, just as the rest of your companions in the pool begin to gather around. You read the note aloud.

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>>6261159
>Dear Everyone,

>I’m sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but I saw no choice. I knew you’d try to stop me otherwise. All my life, I’ve been a joke and burden to those around me. I came to this land to compete for the hand of Princess Yulia. I foolishly thought I could outwit the competition and win. That wit and intellect was all one needed to make their way in this world. I realize now that I was wrong.

>I also realize that I’ve been getting stronger exponentially. I was even able to spar with Tristain! I may be foolish, but even I have my limits. I realize that this newfound strength does not come from any latent talent, but rather from Mystletainn. It is the sword I wield that has granted me this sudden skill. At night, I hear it speaking to me. Telling me that I can grow stronger, if I only continue to wield it in battle. I do not believe it is lying. It craves hellish battle. The type it saw in Tristain and Klement’s bout.

>As such, I have decided to rejoin the pursuit for Princess Yulia’s hand. This is a chance that I cannot simply let pass me by. I can see Morfis in the distance and should not require a guide to make it there. I know I am foregoing my promise to help you, Tristan, and I ask that you forgive me. Should we meet in battle, please do not feel as though you need to hold back. I respect you greatly, and I shall fight you with everything I have.

>Cuthbert, I’m sorry for leaving without notice. You were the finest bodyguard I could ask for, and I was not worthy of your protection. Should I win this contest, I would like for you to one day resume your duties as my royal guard.

>Thank you all for allowing me to travel with you. These last few months were the best of my life.

>I’ll see you in Morfis.

>Elric von Boramus

You crinkle the paper in your hand, tossing it aside to float in the water.

“Is he out of his mind?!” Cassius shouts. “Barely anyone knows anything about this contest! The battles may very well be to the death!”

“He took enough food and water for a few days.” Cuthbert pales. “He’s seriously gone ahead to Morfis. Tristain, you have to do something. I don’t care how good that sword has made him, he’s still just a kid! If he goes up against any of those monsters, he’ll die!”

>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.
>B): Sorry, but he’s a rival now. He told me not to hold back, so I won’t.
>C): Write-in

Welcome back.
>>6261160
>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.
Im more worried about the opposite. That Mystletainn will have win the competition for some nefarious end.

>take a sword and go to Morfis

>fist update is a beach episode
Based
>>6261160
Cool. Killing him will lose us Cuthbert, but I guess that's inevitable now.
>>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.
Break the sword, kill the imprisoned entity №3, doom the kid to the life of a manlet nerd, all in day's work.

>>6261160
>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.
Dammit we should have got that effective against sword axe when we had the chance.

>Already assigning Cuthbert as his royal guard
The poor man's retirement home will be an actual coffin at this rate kek

>>6261212
Don't think the Yulia matches are strictly to the death, we can probably get away with beating him to an inch of his life. Also we have Bronte in the capital, maybe she can hook us up with something to snap him out of it before we even cross blades.

>>6261279
>Is he out of his mind?!” Cassius shouts. “Barely anyone knows anything about this contest! The battles may very well be to the death!”
Whoops, reading comprehension = 0
Guess we just have to beg our wise and wonderful cousin for a miracle

>>6261160
>>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.
Geez teenage rebellious arc hit like truck

>>6261160
>>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.
Fionn will catch up in no time.

>>6261160
>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.

>>6261160
>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.
How many people can we take on Fionn?

>>6261160
>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.

>>6261160
>A): Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.
My God that little shit interrupting the oasis beach episode with May on our shoulder.

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>>6261160
>“Don’t worry, I’ll bring the little shit back.” You say, lifting yourself out of the water and grabbing a nearby rag to dry yourself. Though Elric was really not worth the trouble he was causing, he was still an old family friend. You weren’t about to let him do something this stupid now that you were so close to your goal. You think back to the sparring session he’d referenced in his note. Was his head so big because he managed to put up a fight back then? You had been aiming to knock the sword out of his hand, or best case scenario shatter it with a single swing. But he’d held onto Mysteltainn with a strength that defied logic. Looks like the damn thing was cursed after all. You’d have words for 99 if you ran into her again.

“Just how do you plan on catching up with him?” Alvin asks. The Adjunct had appeared while you’d been reading Elric’s note, sporting a concerned look on his face. “If he left last night, he’s likely already put quite some distance between us.”

>“I’ll go ahead on Fionn, obviously.”

“Alone?” Alvin asks. “Is that wise?”

>“Wise?” You ask, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. Adeline had brought you your armor, and you were already in the process of changing. “It’s Elric we’re talking about. He may have let this weird sword get to his head, but I’m not too worried about it.”

“We’re in this situation precisely because of that weird sword.” Cuthbert seethes. “Do you recall how he slaughtered those cultists? And then his duel with you? He’s getting stronger. How do you know whatever magic is imbued within that blade hasn’t caused him to progress even further?”

>“Fionn is strong, but he isn’t a pack mule.” You retort. “Even the addition of someone as light as May or Chelsey atop him would slow his speed considerably. He’d only put further distance between us.”

“Going alone may indeed be too dangerous, Lord Tristain.” Nadia warns. “You left that sword alone with me for some time. While I was unable to decipher its true nature, I could tell that there was a considerable amount of magic within. We may lose time on catching up to Elric, but it may be better to be safe than sorry.”

>A): Go after Elric alone
>B): Bring an ally (Who?)
>C): Fighting him out here may be too risky. Perhaps we should try looking for him in Morfis.

>>6261684
>>A): Go after Elric alone

>>6261684
>>B): Bring an ally (Who?)
Nadia, both as a "Alright, you don't want me to go alone? Come with!" And also as healing so we can definitively keep Elric alive.

>>6261684
>>6261696
I still want the 1v1 but bringing her is good for the aftermath. +1

Even if Fionn is weighed down, we should stil catch up since flying is faster than walking. Plus he's walking on sand which is way more tiring than walking on solid ground.

>>6261684
>A): Go after Elric alone
Lil kid think he's so tough

>>6261684
>Bring an ally
>Cuthbert
If there's anyone who might be able to help Elric snap out of it it's this guy

>>6261684
>>A): Go after Elric alone
I love underestimating my enemies.
Surely with 2 charges of hit and run we'll be able to roll him

>>6261684
Could Tristain use his limited Wind Magic to speed up his pursuit lol

>>6261684
>B): Bring an ally (Who?)
>Cuthbert
I live for the drama

>>6261969
Afraid not!

There's presently more B than A, but it's split between Nadia and Cuthbert. next vote that picks between them wins.

>Thread started off with a beach episode.
Neat. Too bad Elric had to cut it short.

>>6261684
>B): Bring an ally (Who?)
>Cuthbert
We can probably take him on our own, but Cuthbert would be a nice stat stick to boost our STR, and bringing him along would probably be more entertaining in general.

>>6261684
>>6261741
I'll change to
>A): Go after Elric alone

>>6261684
>Nadia

>>6262221
Agh now Nadia can tie with Cuthbert again.

>>6261684
>>6261696
>>6262216
Either alone or with Nadia, just not with Cuthbert. I want my 1v1 dammit.

>>6261684
>B): Bring an ally (Who?)
Nadia, for healing and misc evil sword diety handling.

I'll call it for Nadia. Writing!

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>>6261684
>“Fine, I’ll bring someone along. But I’m not having a guy riding behind me. Nadia, you come along. If I bash Elric’s head in too hard, at least you can put him back together.”

“As you wish, Lord Tristain.” Nadia nods her understanding, though you happen to notice that she is a bit shaky, glancing at Fionn nervously. She catches you staring at her, and laughs uncomfortably. “S-sorry. I don’t care much for heights…”

“Thank you, Tristain.” Cuthbert says. Though the veteran offers you his gratitude, you can tell that he still is ill at ease knowing that Elric is out there. “Do whatever you can.”

After strapping into your armor, you mount Fionn, offering Nadia a hand to join you on his back. The sorceress clutches onto you tight enough that you can feel her grasp through your breastplate. As soon as Fionn begins to move, Nadia lets out an involuntary whimper and tightens her arms around you. That same whimpering turns into a scream once Fionn takes to the skies and begins to fly in the direction of Morfis. You’d gone from enjoying a nice early morning dip to having a woman screaming in your ear, all to hunt down a runaway pipsqueak. Needless to say, you were not in a good mood.

The three of you fly over the dunes, looking for any trace of Elric below you. No matter which way you look though, you see nothing but sand. It was possible Elric had already made quite the considerable distance. While Fionn was covering good ground, he was simply not used to having two bodies flying atop him, and he was not travelling as fast as he could otherwise.

“DO YOU SEE HIM?!” Nadia screams in your ear. You’ve noticed that she herself has not bothered looking, instead keeping her eyes closed the entire time as she clings to your cloak.

Just as your patience begins wearing thin, you hear a familiar voice, sounding as if it were coming from someone right next to you.

“Greetings, son of the Goddess. How are you faring in this twisted land?”

>“Marek!”

“WHAT?” Nadia asks, refusing to open her eyes. “WHO IS THAT?”

>“You’re doing the creepy voice thing again? I don’t really have time for this. I’m in the middle of something. If you want to bother me with more inane bullshit, I’m going to have to ask you to do this another time.”

“Are you seeking your friend?” Marek’s voice echoes in your mind. “Don’t waste the effort. I’ve already helped spirit him on his way to Morfis with my magic. He should be arriving any moment now.”

>“What? Why would you do that?!”

“That boy is the plaything of an incredibly powerful and vengeful desert spirit. One that seeks the utter destruction of the Agarthans and their lineage. Having a fiend such as that running rampant through that accursed city can only be a good thing.”

>“A vengeful spirit? So that sword is cursed after all?”

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>>6262299
“Cursed as a result of the meddling of the Sorcerer King.” Marek echoes. “Are you finally understanding why his progeny must burn?”

>“I don’t understand anything you ramble about, madman.”

“WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?” Nadia screams.

“You are about to enter the accursed city of the deceiver.” Marek says. “Has the Goddess graced you with the wisdom yet to understand what must be done? The city of Morfis must burn. The way to Tartarus must be open. Abandon your greed and desires to rule over a nation of twisted and deceitful sorcerers and their sycophants. The very blood that courses through your veins was put there for the purpose of destroying the Agarthans. To intermingle with one of their own would be the highest blasphemy.”

>“Not this ‘Agarthan’ shit again. I told you, I have no idea what you’re talking about. What did you do with Elric?”

“I already told you, he’s gone. Now is not the time to worry about your friend, when the fate of your soul is currently at stake. I wish to hear something from your own lips. Surely you’ve thought about Tartarus. I know full well that your Adjunct carries the makings of a key. Do you intend to open the ancient mausoleum? Or will you shirk your duty?”

>“Why are you so sure Tartarus will spell the end of Morfis? From what I’ve heard, no one knows for sure what’s inside.”

In response, Marek only laughs.

“Ernest, or Leviathan, as you know him, prophesied that opening Tartarus would lead to the end of the threat posed by the Agarthans. His word is law. Anything he declares is rooted in truth. Now, answer the question, son of the Goddess.”

>A): Yes, I plan to open Tartarus.
>B): I’ll keep that place locked.
>C): Piss off.
>D): Write-in

>>6262300
>>A): Yes, I plan to open Tartarus.
we already decided. curiosity gets us loot and experience

>>6262300
>D) I don't know yet. Might just keep it locked up if it makes you shut up.
Or something like that.

>>6262302
Don't tell him that though.

>>6262300
>C): Piss off.
Go away weirdo

>>6262300
>C): Piss off.
Who does this bastard think he is, making demands of us?

>>6262300
>A): Yes, I plan to open Tartarus.

>>6262300
>C): Piss off.
Dude really thinks we'll answer him after he screwed up our chances of getting to Elric?

>>6262300
>>A): Yes, I plan to open Tartarus.

>>6262300
>D): IDK, depends, I'm busy now, ask later.

>>6262300
Damn, we missed Elric

Reminds me that a fortune teller told May 'Don't open the door'. She must have been good.

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There's a tie between A and C. Next vote wins. Choose wisely!

>>6262713
C, obviously

>>6262304
>>6262717
By that I mean I switch to C.

>>6262713
Was going to vote D, (I don't know yet) but C is just as good

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>>6262300
>“Piss off already. If you really helped Elric escape, then you’ve gone ahead and further made yourself my enemy. Are you nearby? Why don’t you let me know where you’re skulking, and I’ll come say hi in person.” You had absolutely no patience for this man and these fanciful Agarthans that he spoke of. Whether they really existed or not was none of your concern. What you did know was that this cultist was here in the present, and you wanted nothing more than to split him in two.

“A shame.” Marek echoes. “As someone blessed with the gifts of the Goddess, I’d hoped to give you one last chance to see the error of your ways. But I see now that the people of Fodlan have grown complacent in the millenia following their grand war. They have forgotten their covenant with their own Goddess. Your presence in these lands is to simply be another obstacle that Her faithful must overcome. It matters not. We no longer need you to be our champion. We have found another bearing her gifts that is willing to do what must be done.”

>“Another?” You scoff. “Did you really convince someone from Fodlan to go along with this crap? What sort of gullible fool is it?”

“Worry not. You won’t live long enough to meet them. Farewell, Tristain d’Rusalka. May the Goddess have mercy on your soul.”

Marek’s presence suddenly vanishes, and you can no longer feel the sorcerer within your mind. You look left and right, hoping to find a trace of the man so that you can go make due on your threat, but it is to no avail.

“LORD TRISTAIN, ARE YOU OKAY?” Nadia screams, her eyes remaining shut.

>“I’m fine. But I don’t think we’re going to find Elric. We’d better turn ba-”

A loud screech from above cuts you off mid-sentence, and you feel Fionn bristle beneath you. A shadow is cast over the three of you, and as you look up, you find the culprit. A giant winged vulture hovers in the sky over you. The creature sports massive wings, and you can see the gleam of its razor sharp talons from here. Its head and large beak are craned down, staring at you with venomous hate. There was no mistaking it, this thing was a Terror. So that was what Marek meant.

“WHAT WAS THAT NOISE?”

>“A Terror. It’s a good thing I brought you after all. You can knock that thing out of the sky easily with your effective magic, can’t you?”

At that moment, the vulture lets loose a torrent of fire from its mouth. Fionn ducks out of the way, avoiding the blaze, all the while Nadia screams, clutching onto you tighter.

“I-I CAN TRY? I’VE NEVER FOUGHT IN THE SKY BEFORE. M-MAYBE I CAN JUST HEAL YOU, INSTEAD?”

Could this day get any worse? Well, if there was any silver lining to this, you’d yet to have a real fight atop Fionn. Perhaps this was finally the opportunity you’d been waiting for.

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>>6262812
>Vulture Terror
>Level 35
HP: 140/140
Strength: 30
Speed: 33
Defense: 30
Resistance: 15
Attack: Flame Breath (+8 ATK, Targets RES), Talon Strike (+10 ATK, Targets DEF)

>Order of Combat:
>Vulture Terror
>Nadia (Can only use supportive spells, will not attack)
>Tristain


>Attack the Vulture (How?)


Note: The vulture will only attack Tristain. Additionally, some Crest abilities have been changed/improved since the last thread.

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>>6262813
If Maculi now doubles the total damage of a spell rather than just the added damage from the spell itself, and this Vulture count as flying (I don't see why it wouldn't), Wind and a Crest of Maculi will annihilate the fuck out of it.

((25 MAG + 3 from Wind) x 3 from effectiveness against flying) x 2 from Maculi - 15 Resistance
(28 x 3) x 2
84 x 2 -15
168 - 15 = 153
140 - 153 = -13

Total Vulture Death.
We'll take some damage because it goes first but surely Nadia will heal us up right afterwards.

>>6262812
>>“Another?” You scoff. “Did you really convince someone from Fodlan to go along with this crap? What sort of gullible fool is it?”
I don't know Tristain, maybe the special agent sent directly by the church would. The one that carries our bow.

>>6262813
>>6262822
Support, finally we get some use out of Maculi.

>>6262813
>>6262822
Support. Then Nadia heals us up for round 2.

>>6262824
>We have found another bearing her gifts that is willing to do what must be done.”
Nah don't think it's Cyril because this reads that the person has a crest. Either Arios or Scratch baby from Sreng, and I think there's a Gloucester heir too?

Also Cyril is hear as an ambassador, he's there to smooze up to the future king Tristain not to kill a bunch of civilians

>>6262813
>>6262822
Support, let's make mince meat chiken

>>6262813
>>6262822
Supporting.

I'm leaning on Marek being used by whoever he's working with as I doubt any of the other contenders would be on board with killing all Morfisians. My first guess would be that it's Gloucester since from how she was described in the first thread, she does seem like the type to manipulate Marek and the cult.
Though based on his wording, it might be a non-Fodlan Crest Bearer which only leaves Clay or Scratch's kid.

>>6262813
Supporting >>6262822 , and hopefully we can resolve this cult schism soon. Getting Marek to see things our way would be ideal, but I'll settle for purging him as a filthy heretic.

Rolled 4 (1d6)

Fortuna's Gaze is upon you...

>>6263760
i don't like that...

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>>6262813
While Fionn absorbs much of the damage, you prepare to launch your own counterattack. Throughout much of your time in Morfis, you’d consciously refrained from using the Crest of Macuil. You saw it as a trump card that you did not want to reveal unless otherwise forced to. But up here in the skies, there was no need to fear the observant eyes of potential challengers. You could unleash your full sorcerous might on this creature to finish it quickly. You summon several blades of wind, empowered by the Crest of Macuill, that buffet the vulture, slicing into its flesh and sending blood and feathers raining down upon the sand.

>Tristain: 25 MAG + 3 (Wind) = 28 - 15 RES = 39 DMG x2 (Macuil) = 78 DMG
>Vulture: 62/140 HP

The vulture is sent careening off course by the sheer might of your wind magic, which does considerable damage to the winged creature. Your attack is followed up by your scaly companion. Fionn’s sorcerous breath blasts the vulture head on, leaving a trail of frost that serves to slow the creature down, causing it to flap its wings with great strain.

>Fionn: 13 DMG
>Vulture: 49/140 HP

The Terror makes one last ditch effort to kill you, shooting out another stream of fire that hits Fionn. The wyvern takes the attack in stride though, fanning away the flames with its wings. By now, both you and Fionn are somewhat badly burned, but that was fine. You didn’t intend to give this monster another opportunity to serve you roasted. Nadia, for her part, seemed content to sit there screaming. That was fine though. You summon forth another Macuil-empowered gust of wind, and watch as the efforts of your sorcery serve to dice away at the vulture. Several bloody chunks of meat are ripped off the Terror’s body, crashing far down below into the desert wastes.

>50xp gained! Level Up!

>Tristain d’Rusalka
>Level 36/50 Wyvern Lord (EXP: 0/100)
HP: 69/69 (130%) + 1 = 70
Strength: 37 (75%)
Magic: 25 (50%) + 1 = 26
Speed: 25 (40%) + 1= 26
Defense: 27 (70%) + 1 = 28
Resistance: 19 (50%) + 1 = 20
Luck: 21 (65%) + 1 = 22

As you admire your handiwork, you can’t help but feel a tad strange. You’d just defeated a powerful foe, and with minimal effort at that. You knew for a fact you’d gotten stronger. And yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was perhaps wrong.

>Fortuna’s mood shifts, interfering with your fate. Until her blessing is used, her gaze shall remain upon you.
>DEF: 28 - 1 = 27

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>>6263777
“E-EXCELLENTLY DONE, LORD TRISTAIN!” Nadia yells from behind you. Her eyes were still shut tightly, though you could see the faint trace of tears there. The normally cool sorceress was unquestionably out of her element here. “SHALL WE CONTINUE THE SEARCH FOR ELRIC?”

>“No. We’re likely too late. Let's turn around and regroup with the others.”

Elric, just what the hell were you thinking? The sword could not have consumed him completely. There had to be some lingering trace of him still there. The absurdity of potentially having to face him in the Competition was not lost on you. You would make every effort to break the boy’s curse and ensure his safety. But if he really was growing stronger, it may be difficult to do while holding back. Mystletainn, a cursed sword with the ability to grow stronger and influence its wielder. The list of shit you’d have to deal with just seemed to be growing larger.

By the time you regroup with your companions, the sun has already begun setting. The others crowd around you and Fionn, concern evident in their faces when they notice that not only was the boy not in your grasp, but that the wyvern was somewhat more charred since they’d last seen him. You explain to them your battle with the Terror, as well as how Marek had once again communicated with you.

“The sort of magic you’re describing is not common.” Alvin says. “To communicate with an individual via telepathy is sorcery on the same tier as the Royal Sages. One thing is for certain, a spell like that would only work if Marek was nearby. The head of the Cult of the Serpent being this close to Morfis is almost unthinkable though.”

>“He’s not the head anymore, I am. Remember?”

“I wish I did not…” Alvin groans.

“So this bastard Marek helped Elric get to Morfis? How is such a thing possible?” Cuthbert asks. The man’s mood had soured considerably as he paced back and forth, fists balled. “If he’s nearby, we should go get him and find out what he did!”

“We’d have an easier time finding a needle in a haystack than an experienced rogue mage in these sands.” Alvin sighs. “Though I dislike it, I’m afraid we can do nothing but proceed forward to Morfis.”

The morale of the camp falls to a low state upon the revelation that Elric was indeed out of reach. This upsets you, not only because the boy has created further work, but because the way you saw it, everyone should be excited you’d finally made it to your ultimate destination. Your thoughts turn towards your youngest cousin, Lila. She was good friends with Elric, unaware that he’d harbored feelings for her. You briefly imagine having to explain to her how you’d been forced to kill her childhood friend because you’d allowed him to be possessed by an ancient desert spirit bent on vengeance.

You spit on the ground. That certainly would not do…

>Choose a companion to speak with.

>>6263779
>Alvin
gimme your A-Rank! hopefully saving Elric will get us both his and Cuthbert's...

>>6263779
>Cassius
Bro has been ignored for too long.

>>6263779
>Cassius
the old man must stressed af

>>6263779
>Cassius
Poor guy's been dragged through hell with nothing to show for it. Let's have a chat with him. I wonder what ability we'd get if we got him to A-rank?

>>6263777
The level up was so good, Fortuna started messing with Tristain to keep him balanced
>>6263779
>Cassius
Obligatory "remember that guy?" vote

>>6263779
>Cassius
Don't let all this excitement make you forget that poor dude has been one of the first to join is still stuck at C kek

>>6263779
>Cuthbert
Pls comfort the actual old fart of the group, he's having a time of things

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>>6263779
Wishing to distract yourself from your newfound shitty mood, you seek out one of your companions to speak with. You settle on the summoner, Cassius. He was sitting off to the side, reading from a familiar book you’d seen in his hands before, entitled “A Recollection of the Great Unification War of Fodlan.” You walk up to the man, and the Fodlan fanatic puts his tome to the side in order to greet you warmly.

>“Still haven’t finished that book?”

“Unfortunately not.” Cassius says. “I find little time for reading in your presence. It seems every day something new and exciting is happening.”

>“I don’t know why you waste your time stuck in that book. You have a real genuine Fodlander in your presence. If there’s anything you wish to know about back home, you’d be better off asking me than perusing through that dusty old thing.”

“Oh, I’ve already learned much about Fodlan from being in the presence of yourself and Adeline.” Cassius smiles. “This entire journey has been most illuminating for me. And to think there’s so much more ahead of us.” As the summoner begins reflecting on the journey still to come, you note that his smile slowly fades. “Though, now that I think about it, I fear that this relationship may perhaps be a bit too one sided.”

>“What do you mean?”

“As I said, I’ve learned much about Fodlan. More than ever would have been possible had I not accompanied you on this journey. And yet, I feel as though I have not been adequately able to share with you the culture and history of Morfis. You may very well soon be the King of this country, ruling over a population that numbers in the millions. And yet, save for the information that was in that children’s book, I suspect you may not know the first thing about our storied land.”

>“What? That’s preposterous. Of course I do!” You lie. In truth, you actually knew less about Morfis that you cared to admit. It wasn’t your fault. Until recently, this had been an isolationist nation for thousands of years. Information on Morfis was scarce in Fodlan. You’d also only been here for three months, and most of that time was spent avoiding death. There was hardly any time for an impromptu history lesson. You figured Bronte could likely fill you in on the details at some point.

“Right.” Cassius says dryly. Rather than calling you out on your fib, he chooses to play along. “In any event, I would like to extend to you the same offer you’ve made me. If there are any questions at all that weigh on your mind about this country, you can ask me. It can be anything you like. For example, did you know the favored dish in Morfis is lamb? And that our country’s favorite animal is the desert owl?”

>“How fascinating. Is there anything else you can tell me? Preferably something of particular importance that I should note, and not just trivial tidbits?”

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>>6264334
“How about learning about our previous rulers?” Cassius asks. “You’re going to be king after all. Perhaps it would help to learn of your predecessors, taking note of both their successes and failures? I imagine something like that might be useful to one who will soon wield the same power as they.”

>“Hmm, that could be interesting, I suppose.” You admit, taking a seat across from Cassius in the sand. “What’s their deal? Has Morfis ever had any really shitty kings? Anyone I should know about to avoid making the same mistakes they did?”

“In the many years following Xenophanes’ passing, Morfis has had no shortage of kings and queens.” Cassius says. “Some were good, such as King Theseus. He was a renowned sorcerer for his time, and under his reign, he made numerous reforms that ensured that those unable to use magic would still enjoy equal protection under Morfisian law. Others were terrible, such as Queen Basilea, whose chief interest was expanding her harem of men to number over 400.”

>“A harem, you say?” You rub your chin.

“They all had one thing in common though.” Cassius continues. “They were all direct descendants of Sorcerer King Xenophanes, revered for having his blood flowing through them. And their spouses were all typically of similar stock, often being descended from his Four Apostles, or other sorcerous families of considerable renown. Always a Morfisian, never a foreigner.”

>“Until now, that is.”

“So it seems.” Cassius nods. “Princess Yulia is still young. She has yet to claim the title of Queen, though that is expected to change following the Competition’s conclusion. She has yet to even make an appearance in the public eye. Her husband will undoubtedly wield extensive power following their marriage. I would not be surprised if everyone in Morfis is on pins and needles as they await their mystery monarch. Will they receive a good king, and be allowed to live out their lives as they normally do? Or will they receive a bad king, capable of throwing the country into disarray?”

>A): What do you believe would make a good King?
>B): What sort of power could I expect to wield as King?
>C): Tell me about the general mood in Morfis towards Yulia?
>D): I changed my mind. Go back to talking about tidbits.
>E): Writing

>>6264335
>>A): What do you believe would make a good King?
>C): Tell me about the general mood in Morfis towards Yulia?
Tristain getting some sudden introspection about whether he'll actually have a good time ahead of him.

>>6264335
>A): What do you believe would make a good King?

>>6264335
>C): Tell me about the general mood in Morfis towards Yulia?
Tell me magic man

>>6264335
>E): She has yet to even make an appearance in the public eye? Is that normal?
>C): Tell me about the general mood in Morfis towards Yulia? She can't be very popular after all this "tournament" and "foreigners" business.
>E): Have there been any threats to this country lately? Desert raiders, uprisings, hordes of terrors? You know, problems in my area of expertise?
Thank god for desert cultists and terrors you can campaign against. If not for them, Tristain would speedrun Bobby B's condition after taking the throne. Implying that after opening the door there will be still a throne to take

>>6264335
>A): What do you believe would make a good King?
>E): What is the general opinion of the populace to Bronte?

Her becoming prime minster is probably still too new to comment on, but is the rumor that she's bewitched Yulia widespread or just limited to grumblings amoung the inner court?

>>6264335

>>B): What sort of power could I expect to wield as King?
>>C): Tell me about the general mood in Morfis towards Yulia?

>>6264335
>>B): What sort of power could I expect to wield as King?

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>>6264335
>“What do you believe would make a good king?” You ask Cassius. You were genuinely interested in what the summoner, who’d lived in Morfis his entire life, would consider to be a good ruler.

“A good question.” Cassius says. “I believe that the best possible king for Morfis would be one that finally opens our nation to the outside world. Our country has remained isolationist for too long. My own personal biases for Fodlan aside, our nations have much to benefit from working together. There are an abundance of resources that you possess that the desert simply does not provide. Likewise, our advances in magic are leagues above your own, and could completely change the way of life for your average civilian. We require a ruler that would ensure a fair and equitable exchange of trade, knowledge and ideas between our two lands. Not someone that seeks to bed Yulia simply to pilfer our lands for the good of themselves and their home nation.”

>“Hah! That’s about what I’d expect you’d say. I imagine you’d love it if Fodlan and Morfis opened their borders to each other.”

“Within reason, of course.” Cassius smiles. “I’m enamored with Fodlan, but that does not mean I don’t love my own country as well. Both nations have their strengths and weaknesses. I believe a mutual relationship between the two, while maintaining their individual identities, would welcome a golden age for both countries. But that is simply my opinion, which you asked for. As I’ve told you before, I’d certainly welcome the chance to visit Fodlan freely, unbothered by the restrictions currently in place.”

>“What’s the general mood in Morfis towards Yulia?” You ask. Cassius had mentioned that Yulia had not appeared in the public spotlight, which you found starkly unusual for the ruler of a nation.

“Truthfully? Most people hardly think of her.” Cassius shrugs. “She is revered for having the blood of Xenophanes coursing through her. And it is true that she is technically the ruler of Fodlan. But, it is widely accepted that it is the Four Royal Sages who command much of the actual authority within Morfis. They’ve done so ever since the sudden death of the previous king, Yulia’s father. It remains to be seen how the power structure in Morfis changes once Yulia weds. The people’s biggest fear is perhaps that the new King will take issue with the status quo, potentially leading to conflict with the Sages, and a possible civil war. I believe that the Sages themselves are also aware of the risks someone like that would pose, and are working tirelessly to court potential winners of the Competition early. Hence the Adjuncts you saw with Klement and Arios. And perhaps even Alvin with yourself.”

Alvin had mentioned wanting to introduce you to the Sages eventually. You wondered what those weirdos were actually like in person.

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>>6264946
>“I see. This was very insightful. Thank you for the conversation, Cassius. I feel as though I at least know a bit more about the way things work around here.”

“Of course.” Cassius says. The man was in a jovial mood at having the opportunity to be useful. “I know you are preparing to fight for your life in Morfis, but do not neglect your studies of our culture and history. The inner workings of the Competition are still unknown, and I would not be surprised if there was a section of it that tested your knowledge rather than your martial prowess. Elric may have had a point when he first mentioned that might alone may not be enough. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask me.”

>You receive a B-Support w/ Cassius!

The next day, you and the group continue your march towards the city of Morfis. You were close enough that you could now see the lights of the Sorcerer Capital illuminating the sky. Alvin mentions that he expects the group to arrive at their final destination in another day or two. The closer you got, the more your blood boiled. Your destiny was right in front of you, and you could hardly wait to seize it. Night falls, and while you wish to continue marching to save on time, the rest of your group is exhausted, and seeks to turn in.

The general mood of the camp is still low following Elric’s desertion. Indeed, even you are noticing the absence of the boy’s presence. Not just the absent-minded swinging of his sword, but his peppy and jovial nature that you’d often found irritating before. Growling with frustration, you seek to speak with another of your companions.

>Choose a companion to speak with.

>>6264948
>Chelsey
But Alvin would be fine too.

>>6264948
>Alvin
The A SUPPORT. For the NEW SKILLS.

>>6264948
>Nadia
The ever reliable evil witch is not A-supported yet.

>>6264948
>Cuthbert

>>6264948
>Cuthbert
The other old man

>>6264948
>Nadia

>>6264948
>Cuthbert
Sorry we lost your kid, please don't abandon us because your old man wisdom is kinda useful kek

>>6264948
>Cuthbert
Operation: Get That Boy Back is now in development.

>>6264948
>Cuthbert

>>6265043
Is Cassius even that old? Cuthbert is a fossil alright (though a very well preserved one) but I've always pegged Cassius as the same age as Tristain.

>>6265161
You'd be right to do so. I'd say Cassius is in his late 20s at most.

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>>6264948
You decide to speak with Cuthbert. The man was obviously taking Elric’s disappearance harder than everyone else. While you hardly ever saw him in a good mood, this was a different matter entirely. You find the veteran sitting by himself, staring deeply into a campfire, shadows flickering across his scowling face. As you make your presence known, he hardly acknowledges you. You take a seat next to the man, and sit in silence for some time, before the awkwardness of the situation finally causes you to take the reins of conversation.

>“Maybe it’s just a rebellious phase. Lots of kids have them, you know?”

Cuthbert merely stares at you, unappreciative of your suggestion. It was not lost on either of you that most kids weren’t also possessed by evil spirits bent on vengeance against the living.

“This happened because I grew careless.” Cuthbert finally says after some time. “I took my eye off him. I erroneously assumed that he was simply maturing. That he was no longer in need of protection. I was wrong. Now he’s marching off to his doom, and I feel powerless to stop him. It’s not a good feeling.” The man smiled grimly. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

>“Have some faith. I’ll get him back. If he really is possessed by a spirit, then it must have a vested interest in growing stronger and keeping Elric alive. In the short term, we should expect that he can take care of himself. At least long enough that I can smack him upside the head and shatter that sword.”

“I’m not so sure.” Cuthbert admits. “At the end of the day, whether Elric’s power is supernatural in nature or not, he’s still just a boy. What is a 15 year old supposed to do against the Crest bearing monsters he’s sure to run into?”

>“I don’t know. I’ll just have to knock either them or him out before it gets to that point.”

The halberdier snorts. He throws a few nearby sticks into the fire, keeping it alive.

“The last time we spoke, you asked me what Gronder Field was like.”

>“You didn’t feel like talking about it.”

“I’m being unpleasantly reminded of that day.” Cuthbert says. “It’s the last time I felt this useless. Back then, I was a soldier in an elite unit of the Empire. One that reported directly to the Empress herself. We were the largest and most well-trained army in the entire land, up against two weaker, dysfunctional nations that were on the verge of collapse. On any other battlefield, we’d have wiped them out with ease. But they had one advantage over us. They both possessed more Crest bearers and Heroes Relics than we did. We won the battle, but it could hardly be called a victory. Rather, it was the beginning of the end for us. The losses we endured were unsustainable. All because of you genetic freaks.” He turns his head to look at you. “No offense.”

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>>6265417
You shrug, unbothered by his words. You knew full well the advantages you had over ordinary people as a result of your Crests. Those same advantages would increase tenfold if you had a corresponding Heroes Weapon. One of those types alone would be a handful to deal with, let alone the over a dozen or so that reportedly fought at Gronder that day.

“Me and my unit were commanded to protect Empress Edelgard.” Cuthbert continues. “The Alliance’s soldiers weren’t nearly as good as we were. The war had been raging for five years at that point, and they’d stayed out of the fighting for the most part. We had more experience, but they had a Crest empowered sorcerer who’d single-handedly blown a hole through our defense, felling hundreds. Our line faltered, and the Mad King of Faerghus chose to use that opportunity to launch a suicide attack aiming for Edelgard’s head. Even with our losses, we’d outnumbered his forces, which at that point were exhausted, and suffering from ever decreasing morale. But the Mad King would not be stopped.”

The Mad King, or rather, the Last King of Faerghus, was Dimitri Blaiddayd. Legends of his cruelty on the battlefield persisted to this day. He wielded the Crest of Blaiddyd, along with the Heroes Relic, Areadbhar. Following his death, the Crest of Blaiddyd was thought to be lost to history.

“As the Mad King grew closer to Edelgard, I watched as many of my comrades tried to hold him back.” Cuthbert recollects. “He slew them in droves. Often with a single swing. I still remember his Crest activating, over and over, as the men and women that I’d spent years fighting and bleeding alongside died one after the other. Eventually, it was my turn to try and stop him. By sheer luck, I’d managed to survive where many of my comrades did not. I only caught a glancing blow from his spear, but it was enough to maim me for life.” He points to his shut, scarred eye. “I’ll never forget the helplessness I felt that day. Knowing that there are more people like him out there, all gathering in one place, and that that thing inside Elric’s body wishes to fight them…it’s enough to fill me with great dread.”

Silence falls upon the two of you once more as you absorb Cuthbert’s story. Eventually, he breaks it by asking you a question.

“Tell me, you started this journey because you were bored, no? You felt like you wanted your fair share of fighting that you’d missed out on. That’s all well and good now, but what happens once you win? And the fighting stops, and you’re now expected to rule like a monarch? Will you seek more fights to pick?”

>A): There’s always someone out there that needs their ass kicked.
>B): I guess I’ll hang up my axe and try ruling this country.
>C):I honestly don’t know.
>D): Write-in

>>6265418
>>C):I honestly don’t know.

>>6265418
>D): Fighting stops? There’s always someone out there that needs their ass kicked. I'll rule like a monarch and fight like a warrior.
Or something like that, Tristain won't abdicate responsibility but he won't stop fighting neither.

>>6265427
+1

>>6265427
>Support
Hell yeah warrior forever

>>6265418
>>6265427
Yeah this. Realistically there'll always be people looking to knock him off that fancy new throne of his and they probably won't settle down (much) until he has an heir or two. But once he punches their face in I'd imagine he'd settle down to rule well. (And hey maybe he can restart the wheel of fortune tournaments if he ever gets that bored)

>Cuthbert survived THE BOAR
You sure he wasn't the one blessed by fortuna, holy heck

Also always wondered back then what exactly caused Dimitri to cleave Lys in fucking half. Guess we finally know

>>6265418
>>6265427
Support. Makes Tristain a good mix of both his parents.

>>6265418
>>A): There’s always someone out there that needs their ass kicked.

>>6265418
Supporting >>6265427 on account of a warrior king always needing to fight off assassins and such.

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>>6265418
>“Fighting stops? There’s always someone out there that needs their ass kicked. I'll rule like a monarch and fight like a warrior.” You couldn’t imagine a world where you wanted to stop fighting. To you, that was exactly why the Goddess had given you the gifts she had. So that you could spread her word, defend your loved ones, and ensure that the people you were responsible for were safeguarded and prosperous. You intended to succeed at ruling, but that didn't mean you intended to hang up your axe for good.

“Of course it does.” Cuthbert looks at you as though you were mad. “Have we been absent from Fodlan that long? Home may have its issues, but one thing that cannot be denied is that the Archbishop has ensured that we have not had to fight a war in over 25 years. I would hope that you seek to follow her example were you to become king. Fighting may be well and good for you, but that’s only because violence and strife runs in your blood in the form of those Crests. For everyone else, it’s a living nightmare. Don’t go picking fights as a ruler just to satiate your own boredom, Tristain. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself going down in history as a tyrant.”

>“Wouldn’t be the first one you served, would it?”

“At least Edelgard fought for something other than her desires. And in the end, her dream of a world that placed less emphasis on Crests came to fruition. If fighting and testing your abilities is what you truly want out of your life, then the best thing you could do is decline to rule this nation. It’s a large world out there. Perhaps there are more interesting things for you to do than sitting on a dusty foreign throne.”

>“I’ll be sure to take your considerations to heart.” You say, crossing your fingers behind your back.

“Be sure you do.” Cuthbert says, getting up from his log and stretching out his tired limbs. “Don’t stay up late. Alvin says we’ll be in Morfis tomorrow. Best you get some rest. You’ll need it.”

>You receive an A-Support w/ Cuthbert!
>New Skill: Veteran - Effective damage taken is nullified

During the next day’s travel, you see it before anyone else does. Riding ahead of the group upon Fionn, you can make out the numerous, impossibly tall spires that lie ahead of you, each one piercing above the clouds. After three months of marching and fighting, you’d finally done it. You’d reached the Sorcerer Capital of Morfis. Your destiny was ahead of you. The beautiful Princess Yulia, a reunion with your cousin, and the greatest battles of your life were all waiting. In excitement, you bring Fionn down to the rest of the group, informing them that you’d finally reached your destination.

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>>6266043
“That’s Morfis?” May exclaims breathlessly, her head trailing upward as she studies the spires from afar. “It’s incredible. I didn’t know they made buildings that big…”

“Indeed…” Adeline follows. “The largest city I’ve ever been to is Fhirdiad…and even that looks like a small hamlet in comparison. People truly live there?”

“The first time seeing the city is always an experience.” Chelsey says. “But yes, that is Morfis. Home to one million souls, mages and mundane alike. The city has stood since the time of the Sorcerer King, and was shaped directly by the magic of both him and his Apostles.”

“Legend says that they modelled this city to their exact specifications.” Alvin chimes in. “Using their godly magic, they built this place in a quick fashion, almost as if following a model for something that already existed somewhere else. Of course, the city has expanded since their passing, and now stands in the form you see before you. There are usually strict security measures in place, put there to bar both outsiders and potential cultists. But with the Competition, standards have lessened a bit.”

“Hey, you should march in there like a real big shot!” May says to you.

>“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, if you win the Competition then you’ll rule that place, won’t you? If so, you should walk in there like you already own it! Strut your stuff and show them who's boss!”

“I don’t know about that.” Cuthbert mutters. “It may be better to keep a low-profile. Revealing yourself too early may alert you to the other competitors, and only serve to make you stick out as an adversary that should be taken out first.”

>A): Enter Morfis, keeping a low profile.
>B): Walk in like you own the place.
>C): Write-in

>>6266043
Just because there's peace in Fodlan doesn't mean there's no violence. Besides, Tristain can also have his fights by hosting tournaments just like this. Won't be having his crown as the prize though.

>>6266046
>B): Walk in like you own the place.
Cuthbert really be threatening Tristain with a good time. That was the worst argument he could've chosen.

>>6266043
>>New Skill: Veteran - Effective damage taken is nullified
fucking WHAT
>>6266046
>>B): Walk in like you own the place.

>>6266043
>B): Walk in like you own the place.
Well said May, she knows our heart. Also maybe she just wants to steal some stuff while we make a big show. I approve, though a May in our lap would be nice too.

Tristain riding Fionn on the road like hes fucking Prince Ali, maybe throwing a few handfuls of coin. Chelsey singing and dancing along, as we don't seem to have a Robin Williams Genie just the one we killed. Unless Cuthbert or Cassius are hiding a real singing voice. Bit of magic from Nadia and Alvin. Some little shadow creatures from Cassius. Our shining guardian knight Adeline.

>>6266046
>>B): Walk in like you own the place.
It's time for Tristain to do the Dr. Livesey stride

>>6266046
>B): Walk in like you own the place.

>>6266046
>>B): Walk in like you own the place.

>>6266046
>B): Walk in like you own the place.
Hell yeah, man Tristan really is charisma magnet with how much people he get

>>6266046
>B): Walk in like you own the place.
Strut yo shit king

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Also, as promised in the last thread, I now present to thee, May's revenge fantasy involving the one and future king Tristain, and his concubine, Clement.

>>6266692
lol holy moly

Bless May

>>6266692
Damn Klement is fucking RIPPED. This makes sense canonically, as May is the party member most likely to have fujoshi tendencies. An awesome piece all around though, thank you for commissioning it, friend. Who is the artist by chance? I really like their style.

>>6266904
The artist is Gutsbro, a buddy of mine.

>>6266692
this is how they gonna describe that duel in the history books

>>6266692
this is actually canon btw. im treeQM im just phoneposting trust me

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One thing I want to share is that I got updates on the artwork and at one point Tristain had a massive creep smile.

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>>6266046
May had a good point. First impressions were everything. The people of Morfis were about to meet their King for the first time. It was important that you make a grand entrance and show them what you were made of. You momentarily force the party to cease their advance, and to direct their attention towards the creation of a makeshift banner. You didn’t know much about arts and crafts, but fortunately, Cassius offered to put something together for you from one of the hides of a tent you would no longer need. You’d asked the summoner to paint a picture of a Hellwing, a vicious bat native to Fodlan, which was the symbol of your late father. What he gave you was less than satisfactory. You suppose you should not have expected much given what you’d previously seen of his makeshift drawings, but beggars could not be choosers.

Holding the banner in your hand, you mount Fionn and lead your party towards the gates of Morfis. The spires ahead of you look even grander up close, and you find it incomprehensible how such wonders were created in the first place. From an architectural standpoint, Morfis was leaps and bounds ahead of Fodlan. As you gaze up at a tower that pierces above the clouds, you wonder what else this nation will have in store for you.

As you reach the edge of the city, Fionn takes a sharp dive down, landing in front of the city gate with grace and pose. He spreads his wings wide, and cranes his neck back, taking up as much space as he can to let out a proud roar. You stand atop his back, waving your banner left and right, giving off a bellow of your own.

>“Hear me, Morfis! Tristain d’Rusalka has finally arrived to battle for the honor of Princess Yulia xan Phanes! Stand in my way at your own peril, for nothing shall stop my advance!”

clap clap clap clap

“Very nice landing.”

“The speech was a little generic though…”

“Hey, is that a white wyvern? Cool!”

“He’s lucky he’s got that much at least. Otherwise I’d rank him towards the bottom half…”

A group of mages serve as the guardians of the gates of Morfis. They stand around, politely clapping in your direction and discussing the merits of your entrance. While they seem well-meaning, you couldn’t help but feel as though they were just being nice for the sake of it.

>“What are you doing?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” One mage offers an apology. He scratches the back of his head, as if embarrassed that they were caught. “We’re so used to seeing these sorts of entrances from you competitors, that we’ve taken to ranking the best ones amongst ourselves.”

“For what it’s worth, yours was MUCH more interesting than the last kid we just saw. He was a real little creep.”

>“Other entrances?” You seethe, rethinking the merits of this idea. “Just how many competitors have you seen thus far?”

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>>6267046
“You’re Number 59.” A mage pipes up helpfully. In his hands is a piece of paper, and he takes a second to write and check something off. “Tristain d’Rusalka. Thanks for the introduction!”

>“59?!”

“Hey, don’t feel too bad.” A female guard says. “Even natives get lost in the desert all the time. The important thing is that you made it at all!”

At that, the gate guards begin laughing hysterically. Did these little rats think you’d just been frolicking out in the sands for three months?! Did they have any idea of all the shit you had to do to get here?! You’re a few moments away from giving them a verbal lashing when their laughter ceases as quickly as it began. The guards suddenly snap to attention, and the lead one gives a practiced salute.

“Adjunct Alvin! Welcome back, sir!”

“At ease, friends.” Alvin smiles. “I see you’ve met my good friend, Tristain. He plans to take part in the Princess’ competition. What do you think of him?”

“He’s really cool!”

“Wow, and huge too! They make them that big in Fodlan?!”

“Never seen anyone like him before!”

Kiss asses. You figured you shouldn’t be surprised. This was a nation that was currently being run by a bunch of glorified bookworms. As one of their right-hand men, Alvin would certainly command considerable power and influence within these walls. Good thing he was currently on your team.

“We’ll get the gates open and let you and your friends in right away!” The lead guard says. Before he scurries away though, you call out to him.

>“Hold it! You said there was a kid that appeared just before I did. Was he a short lad with green hair? Maybe carrying around a weird sword?”

“Yes, that would be him.” The guard says. He goes through the same list he’d checked earlier, when he’d written your name. “Elric von Boramus. He’s likely off at the Fodlan Embassy.”

>“Fodlan Embassy?”

“It’s a temporary measure. Every nation that has a representative competing has one. They’re places where competitors can rest and resupply before the competition’s start.”

>“I see. Maybe I should stop there and kick Elric’s ass first.”

“Hold, Tristain.” Alvin says. “That sort of behavior may have been fine before. In fact, given the lack of hard rules so far in this contest, I’m sure it was encouraged to weed out weaker competitors. The local authorities were all too happy to turn a blind eye to the sort of trouble you foreigners were causing. But do not expect the same here in the capital. If you cause a scene or resort to violence, I would expect there to be great consequences. At this point, it may not be possible to shatter Elric’s curse until you face him in a sanctioned battle.”

>“Ugh. So, what do you suggest then?”

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>>6267047
“Let's meet with the Royal Sages first.” Alvin says. “I must check in with them immediately and inform them of recent ongoings. Not to mention, I’ll need to drop off ‘that thing’ as soon as possible.” He says, referring to the Agarthium in his possession. “I said I’d introduce you to them. I believe that you would stand to gain much from a friendly relationship. Not to mention, they have all the knowledge of Morfis in their possession. They could likely tell us something about Mystletainn and Elric’s possession.”

“Nuh uh, no way!” Chelsey interrupts the conversation, storming up to the two of you. “You’re meeting Bronte first! I told her as much when I left! I’m sure anything the Sages could tell us, she could as well. Besides, she’s your cousin, isn’t she? Family reunions come first! And she’s going to be pissed off to hell if you meet with those geezers before her.”

Alvin clears his throat. “Well, be that as it may, surely she’d understand the severity of the situation. I fear that the Sages themselves may also feel a bit slighted were you to not stop and speak with them first.”

Of course they would. As Chelsey told you before, the Royal Sages and the Royal Family were in the midst of a power struggle for control of Morfis. Visiting one side first would certainly cause the other to suspect you’d already been taken in, not to mention, one of your allies would be left feeling annoyed with you.

>A): Visit Bronte first.
>B): Visit the Royal Sages first.
>C): Visit the Fodlan Embassy first, leaving both sides miffed.

As a heads up. I'm going to be travelling for a few days, so updates will be paused until I return, likely on Tuesday, July 1st. See you then!

>>6267019
Lmao that's really good. A trustworthy and warm smile if I ever saw one.

>>6267048
>>B): Visit the Royal Sages first.
annoying bronte is our destiny

>>6267048
>>C): Visit the Fodlan Embassy first, leaving both sides miffed.
ELRIC WE'RE GONNA KICK YOUR ASS AND TEACH YOU A LESSON

>>6267048
>B): Visit the Royal Sages first.
For a variety of reasons. This annoys Bronte so it's funny and in character, we already have rapport with Bronte, having a man on the inside benefits Bronte, the Sages are the most likely to oppose us so "...keep your enemies closer", doing this could have them approve the fight against Elric.

>>6267048
>>A): Visit Bronte first.
I'm the only one who thinks we have annoyed imouto enough

>>6267048
>C): Visit the Fodlan Embassy first, leaving both sides miffed.

>>6266692
Absolutely based.

>>6267048
>B): Visit the Royal Sages first.
Keeping Bronte waiting would be funny.
Beyond that, the Sages seem more interesting so far. One of them is buying kids for human experimentation and another is probably going to be harvesting quintessence.

>>6267048
>B): Visit the Royal Sages first.
Bronte can wait an extra hour, she already waited 3 months after all lmao

>>6267048
>C): Visit the Fodlan Embassy first, leaving both sides miffed.
CYRIL HAND OVER OUR BOW RIGHT NOW THE GODDESS DEMANDS IT (we'll probably need it when facing Elric desu)

Also good way to keep thing neutral (-lly pissed) kek

>>6267048
>A): Visit Bronte first.
Gotta annoy family first

>>6267048
>C): Visit the Fodlan Embassy first, leaving both sides miffed.
If we're going to have someone pissed at us either way might as well not have people think we've already been swayed on top of that. Plus we can pacify Bronte with saying we were trying to secure our bow to win the competition for her or something

>>6267048
>>A): Visit Bronte first.

>>6267048
>B): Visit the Royal Sages first.
Let's gauge what they're all about.

>>6267048
>A): Visit Bronte first.
Angering the Sages is temporary. Betraying family is eternal.

>>6267048
>>6267265
I'll change my vote to
>A): Visit Bronte first.
Though visiting the Embassy sounds better, I'd rather visit Bronte first before the Sages if it's between those two options.

>>6267048
>A): Visit Bronte first.

>>6267048

Since shaking Cyril down for our bow isn't going to win might as well change my vote to seeing Bronte. >>6267302

>A): Visit Bronte first.

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Also, though it's nothing compared to the absolute masterpiece of >>6266692, my own comm of the hypest moment of last quest has finally come through too - featuring best hag, best pegasus and some guy who went down like a damn NPC, stun you will forever be the MVP.

(Also yeah I know Blair didn't have Gungnir during Gronder, but hey it's the cooler spear of the two so in it went)

Seriously, thanks so much to running both this quest and the original Three Houses Quest Tree, most fun I've had on these boards in quite a while.

>>6268447
Holy shit this looks amazing, like an official illustration you'd see from a fire emblem game, great stuff... Man, the difference in both our commissions lmao

>>6268447
Damn that's cool. Rex's hand is a bit thin for an absolute unit he was, but the composition and style kick ass.

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>>6268450
I will not have you putting down the commission of Tristain and his canon S rank, you hear? Seeing it made me regret not siding with Klement kek

>>6268516
Excuse me this a Blair propaganda piece and so the only unit around here is herself kek

Also can't take credit about the composition, it's ripping off heavily inspired by pic related portrait of a valkyrie by Peter Nicolai Arbo because I always knew I wanted valkyrie!Blair in some form. Still in awe of how the artist did the sunset though (I was a big indecisive baby over whether it should be blue sky(and a battle) or sunset and let them pick what felt best kek)

>>6268447
What an incredible piece! Seriously I'm taken aback. Thank you so much for the commission. Blair looks so good here its unreal. I'm glad this was your favorite part. I still maintain that the erroneous update back then was canon, and the fact that things turned out differently was the result of a Byleth Divine Pulse that managed to change Blair's RNG lol.

A wins, writing.

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>>6267048
>“Sorry Alvin, but family comes first. Bronte is already likely to be annoyed with me. I’d rather not draw her ire anymore than I have to. These Sages may hold a tremendous amount of power, but I’d still risk being on their bad side than my cousin’s.”

Alvin sighs, not looking happy with your decision. He shakes his head, but does not push the matter with you any further. “Very well. I’ll lead the others to the Fodlan Embassy before taking my leave to make my report. Hopefully the Sages won’t be too cross and we can simply schedule a meeting another time.” Taking you a bit by surprise, he offers you a handshake. “I’d love to show you through Morfis myself, but I imagine that my work may take me away for a bit. It’s possible you and I may not meet again under the usual circumstances until the Competition’s start. Should that be the case, I wish you the best of luck, Tristain. Know that if there is anything I find out about Elric’s condition, I will send the information to you right away.”

>“Are you really going to be that busy?” You ask, accepting Alvin’s gesture with a firm handshake of your own.

Alvin nods. “They’ll likely need my help in preparing the key. Nevertheless, I will make my recommendation to the Sages that they throw their lot in with you for this tournament. Should they accept, someone else will come find you.”

>“Very well. Thanks for everything, Alvin. I doubt this trip would have been half as fun had it not been for you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” The Adjunct smiles. “I shall cheer loudly for your success, my friend.”

Alvin takes his leave, the rest of your party in tow with the exception of Chelsey. When the Adjunct’s back is turned, the dancer sticks her tongue out in a mocking gesture towards him.

“Careful with that one, Tristain.” Chelsey warns you. “He may be friendly on the outside, but he’s still an Adjunct of the Royal College. His true loyalties lie with the Four Royal Sages, which means that he must be against Bronte and the Princess. Whatever they’re planning, I’m sure it is to the detriment of her. Perhaps the reason he wishes to win you over to their side is to have a man on the inside that can tell him what your cousin is planning.”

>“I don’t know.” You say. “If he was really planning on betraying me, he has a funny way of showing it. He’s been nothing but helpful thus far. Without his aid, I’m not sure how easily I’d have made it to Morfis. And his presence did certainly keep things interesting for me.” You think to yourself that were it not for Alvin, you’d have fought far less, and thus been far more bored, and perhaps even in a less experienced state for this contest.

“One doesn’t get to his position without knowing how to wear a mask.” Chelsey says, “Just be careful is all.”

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>>6268726
Following Chelsey, you explore Morfis with much interest. The streets of the city were paved with white stone, and despite the heavy foot traffic, they were immaculately clean. Several tall buildings and spires lined each street, larger than any sprawling manse you’d seen in Fodlan’s capital city of Enbarr. Despite being in the middle of the desert, there was an abundance of greenery decorating each corner of the city. Strangest of all, there was music in the air. Though you could not see any musician or band playing, a pleasant melody was coming from somewhere above you. Everywhere you went, the people of Morfis stopped to stare at you. These were not the same suspicious glances you’d received in Solis though. Here, these men and women seemed genuinely excited by your presence. They greet you with warm smiles and waves, and some children even stop to tug at your cape, at least until Chelsey shoos them away.

>“Everyone seems so…friendly. I have to admit, I’m not used to this from you people.”

“Well, you foreigners are the talk of the town.” Chelsey says. “Those in the more remote corners of the country might be more suspicious, but here in the capital, the Competition is all anyone seems to care about. It’s a huge deal, and given that it will take place here, most of the common folk feel as though they’re right at the center to witness it all. It’s a historic moment for them”

You take all this admiration in stride, waving and smiling back at the citizenry, some of whom begin following you all the way to the Palace of Morfis. Arriving there, you’re shocked by what you find. This place was massive! At least two to three times larger than where the Archbishop sat! You could hardly believe such an incredible building was sitting all the way out here, unbeknownst to most people back home. And soon, this place would be your home! As you begin salivating at the idea, you fail to notice that you’ve already arrived at the front gate of this place. One of the guards nods in Chelsey’s direction, allowing the two of you to enter the castle grounds.

The two of you walk through sprawling halls, adorned with all manner of finery, including intricate tapestries, golden ornaments, and masterfully crafted sculptures and glassware. The wealth that was on display here was extremely opulent, and the further you explored the castle’s depths, the more you found. What must have been this place’s attendants greet Chelsey warmly, stopping to stare at you in the same way those outside did, though with much more interest.

“She should be in here…” Chelsey mutters, stopping before a pair of exceptionally large wooden doors. Someone has carved a mural on them, depicting a ship flying over the desert sands. A reference to this country’s origin story. “But…”

The dancer opens the doors, and you are greeted by raucous yelling, and an obnoxiously large crowd of people.

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>>6268727
>“What the hell is this?” You ask, observing the scene with great annoyance. The room before you was vast, filled to the brim with men and women dressed in silk fineries. Their backs were turned towards you, and they faced the front of the room, where you saw a large stained glass depicting a white-haired old man, likely the Sorcerer King. There was a raised dais, and you could make out a throne of some sort, but because of the crowd before you, you could not make out who was sitting there.

“Ugh, they’re petitioners.” Chelsey groans. “Mages of high regard, here representing the various interests of Morfis. Most are already in the pocket of the Sages. They come here everyday to demand things of your cousin. I was hoping they’d be gone by now, but it appears we were not that fortunate.”

“Silence!”

A woman’s voice echoes through the hall commandingly, shutting up the grumbles of those present within this vast hall. You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Bronte was here.

“This matter has already been settled long ago, and a great deal of work has gone into this effort. This is the will of Princess Yulia, and no changes shall be made.”

“So you say!” A male voice cries out in opposition to Bronte’s. “However, how can we be so sure that is the truth? No one has spoken to Princess Yulia other than yourself. Are we just supposed to take your word that this inane contest has her blessing?”

“That’s right!” Another voice, this time a woman’s, exclaims. “In all our history, there have never been as many foreigners present as there are now! And each of these ‘contenders’ has brought with them a small army! If they decided to work together, they might very well cause complete havoc across the entire country!”

“That shall not happen.” Bronte declares. “They will abide by the rules of fair competition. As for the Princess, you know very well that she need not show herself to you until she is wed. That rule was instituted by her late father, the former King. As Prime Minister of Morfis, I intend to see his wishes are followed.”

“How convenient.” The first voice says smugly. “The first time a foreigner is Prime Minister of our great nation, she invites a horde of foreign savages from the Dark Continent, all with the promise of ruling over us. And we should just accept this?!”

Once more the audience hall breaks out into a frenzy, each person clamoring to add their own thought to the discussion.

>“Fuck sake…” You groan. “How long does this go on for?”

“They’re very animated today.” Chelsey says. “They must be growing nervous now that the Competition is so close to starting. This might take a few hours.”

>“Fuck that. I’ll interrupt.”

“Don’t!” Chelsey warns. “That’ll just make things worse. Leave it to your cousin.”

>A): Move to the front and interject.
>B): Sit tight and watch.
>C): Write-in

>>6268729
>>A): Move to the front and interject.
nuh huh!

>>6268729
>A): Move to the front and interject.
Make way for the future king

>>6268729
>A): Move to the front and interject.

>>6268729
>B): Sit tight and watch.

>>6268729
>B): Sit tight and watch.

>>6268729
>>B): Sit tight and watch.

>>6268729
>>A): Move to the front and interject.
Play it off as bombastically greeting our cousin.

Is this a bad idea? Probably. But if we do the bad idea, I want it to be funny.

>>6268729
>B): Sit tight and watch.
If we're going the "suck up to Bronte" route, then let's go all the way. Let's see how she's been handling herself...

>>6268447
Stunning!

>>6268729
>B): Sit tight and watch.

>>6268729
>B): Sit tight and watch.
No point pissing off the sages only to go and piss off Bronte anyway.

Also damn maybe we should have cozied up to Alvin for his A rank skill. But if they leave the party can we still use them?

>>6268729
>A): Move to the front and interject.
Didn't even read the other options

>>6268447
Neat. Gronder was absolute kino in general. I still think that the Forseti scene was peak.

>>6268729
>B): Sit tight and watch.
Interrupting would probably be more entertaining, but I do want to see how Bronte deals with this.

B wins, writing.

>>6265417
>All because of you genetic freaks
Damn, Cuthbert knows what genes are.
The talk with him is very interesting, more so than with Cassius even. No war for 25 years is big even for the modern world, for a fantasy realm it's *really* good. Maybe Tristain will spend his time on campaigns while someone else rules at home. Maybe he'll just organise a lot of tournaments.
>>6269082
Tristain has spent his entire Morfis vacation telling everybody off, but he seems much more willing to be reasonable when working for imouto. Kind of cute.

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>>6268729
Tempting as it may be to shut these cretins up, you decide not to interrupt. Your cousin had been dealing with these types for far longer than you had, and your wish to see how she handled them overrode your own desire to be a nuisance. You cross your arms, content to simply observe the show. Chelsey blinks rapidly, her expression morphing into one of shock. She could hardly believe that you’d actually listened to her. The crowd continues their incessant bickering until Bronte finally deems it appropriate to interrupt, her voice once more amplified by magic.

“This is not up for discussion.” She says unperturbed. “You have made your feelings on this matter known for many months now, and while they have been taken into consideration, the Princess has deemed this the best path forward for both Morfis and herself. As her rightful Prime Minister and arbiter of her word, it is my duty to ensure that the Competition is carried out fairly and in full. Now, it is my suggestion to all of you that you make peace with that fact. Very soon, Morfis WILL have a new king, one who will play an active role in ruling alongside our Princess, as well as opening trade between our nations. Were I you, I would not deem it wise to stand in the way of that person, whose temperament is as of yet unknown.”

“You wish us to sit still as you sell out our nation to foreign devils?!” A man cries out angrily.

“The Grand Stage has been refurbished to comfortably seat 20,000 onlookers in preparation for the finals of the Competition.” Bronte answers him. “If you’re looking for a place to ‘sit still’, I would suggest purchasing a ticket there before they are sold out.”

At that, the crowd erupts in a fury. You knew Bronte could at times have a temper, but you’d never seen her goad anyone into a frenzy like this. For a second, you think that some of the petitioners will move forward, as if seeking to rush the dais and seize your cousin. However, none do so. At that moment, you notice that there are hardly any guardsmen within this hall. As if your cousin had no need to fear reprisal from an angry mob seeking to tear her apart. She was up there alone, flanked by no one except for two, giant statues standing at the far edge of the room. Actually, you were surprised you hadn’t noticed them before. The things were massive, holding giant swords and shields that appeared to be made of some sort of strange black stone. You suppose even they were dwarfed by the spectacle taking place in this grand room. As the crowd continues to hurl more and more insults, you swear that you catch the faintest glow emitting from the eye holes of both statutes. Surely that was just your imagination though.

“This meeting is adjourned.” Bronte declares. “Please leave the premises, and do not return unless you have matters of actual importance to discuss.”

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>>6269144
You stand as an obstacle for many of the petitioners who are now exiting the room, each of them having to maneuver around you to reach the exit. Some give you shocked looks, surprised by your appearance here. Others, a mean glare or a hushed whisper. But none dare to approach you and discuss their grievances with your presence personally. One by one, they all pour out of the room, until only Chelsey, Bronte, and yourself are left. With the crowd finally out of your way, you are granted your first look at Bronte in over three years.

“I said this meeting was adjo-” Bronte starts, before cutting herself off as she sees you for the first time. You’re shocked at the woman who stands before you. There was no doubt this was your cousin, whom you’d grown up with and spent countless hours beside. And yet, she’d grown so much you almost had a difficult time recognizing her. Instead of the humble robes and dresses she’d wear, she was clad in garb befitting of an affluent noblewoman. Her grey hair, inherited from her father, was styled well and flowing long. She wore jewelry on her ears and fingers, when ordinarily you hardly ever saw her with anything of the sort save for the bracelet Chelsey now wore. Perhaps most surprising of all though was the newfound hardened look in her eyes. There was no longer any trace of naivete or doubt there. Your cousin’s experiences in this strange land had no doubt changed her greatly.

>“Yo.” You wave.

Bronte stands there, taking you in with a shocked look upon her face. She walks off the dais, her elegant heels tapping across the polished floor rhythmically. As she approaches, you hold out your arms, ready to embrace your cousin for the first time. She stands before you, a good many inches shorter, and punches you as hard as she can in the chest. Given that she possessed none of the physical talents you did, you fortunately did not feel a thing.

“Are! You! Out! Of! Your! Mind!?” She exclaims with each punch, fury etched across her face. “What’s this I hear about you forming a cult?! And releasing the ancient spirit that was trapped in Shangri-La out into the world?! You were just supposed to come straight here! What other maddening things have you done that you haven’t told me about?!”

>“Uhh, remember Elric von Boramus? Lila’s friend from back home? I had him tagging along with me and I think he’s now possessed by an evil sword.”

“What?!” Bronte yelps in horror. “How?! Why?!” By now, she’d begun to grow tired of punching you. Her breathing was labored, and her stylish hair was now matted with sweat. She was certainly no athlete, that much was certain, but you were fortunate she’d decided only to punch you. You could sense almost immediately that her sorcery had improved tremendously since you’d last seen her. Being on the receiving end of one of her spells would be disastrous.

>>6269146
Bronte lets loose one final punch, hardly any energy behind it.

“You’re…such a bastard.” She says, headbutting you in the chest, before finally growing still, her tantrum over. She rests her head there for a moment, growing silent save for her tired breathing. You remain perfectly still until you hear the sound of your cousin beginning to whimper. She clutches onto your chest tightly, not allowing you to see her face, though you can tell from the way her body shakes that she is holding back a sob. Wrapping her in a hug, you hear the sound of Chelsey’s footsteps. The dancer exits the room silently, closing the door behind her and leaving the two of you alone.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Bronte mutters through choked sobs, her head still firmly within your chest.

>A): I’ve missed you too.
>B): You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, kid.
>C): I got your letter, and I’ve come to claim my throne!
>D): Write-in

>>6269147
>A): I’ve missed you too.
Pretty cute, but I prefer May

>>6269147
>>A): I’ve missed you too.
she's been through a lot huh, just like momma

>>6269147
>A): I’ve missed you too.
Hell yeah—suffering builds character, except for Tristan, that weirdo who just waltzed in and beat every single obstacle in front of him

>>6269147
>A): I’ve missed you too.

>>6269147
>A): I’ve missed you too.
Bronte's introduction is fun

>>6269147
>>C): I got your letter, and I’ve come to claim my throne!

>>6269147
>A): I’ve missed you too
Looks like she's inherited her mother's height as well as her magic powers. What's the height difference between her and Tristain?

>>6269147
>A): I’ve missed you too.

>>6269147
>C): I got your letter, and I’ve come to claim my throne!

>>6269147
>>C): I got your letter, and I’ve come to claim my throne!

>>6269147
>>A): I’ve missed you too.
Tard wrangler obtained
Imouto hugged
Humanity restored

>>A): I’ve missed you too.

>>6269341
Tristain is around 6'3. I'd say Bronte is around 5'7. Neither Blair nor Ashe were particularly tall.

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>>6269147
>“I’ve missed you too.” You say, hugging Bronte tightly. In this moment, where it was just the two of you alone, you didn’t have a problem dropping your usual demeanor. Though you knew you two were not blood related, you still saw Bronte as a dear sister and friend. Perhaps the person you held the most confidence in. It stood to reason that until you came to Morfis, these last three years without her had been lonely ones. You had a million questions for her, but those could wait until she was ready. For now, you were both happy just being in each other’s presence.

Bronte rubs her face with the sleeve of one arm, wiping away her tears. Though still red-faced, she does her best to put herself back together. She grabs you by the hand, and begins leading you away towards another room. “Come, let us catch up in private. I’ve had enough work for one day. Tell me, how are mother and father faring?”

>“Your mother is fine.” You say, allowing Bronte to lead you to a small office in the back of the room. You walk past those enormous statues you saw earlier. They were even bigger up close, but you don’t stop to examine them. “She’s busy as always with governmental affairs. Especially now that trade with Morfis is starting to ramp up. She worries about you constantly, but Corrine and Kate know how to settle her down. As for your father, he actually wished to accompany me here, but your mother would not allow it, saying he wasn’t a young buck anymore. Frankly, I’m glad she did. He’d have been really stuffy to have around.”

Bronte laughs heartily, opening the door to a small office. Inside was much plainer than what you’d seen of the rest of the palace. Books and papers were neatly piled atop a wooden desk, and the furniture present within was all of modest make. You both take a seat on a dark green couch, situated in the middle of the room.

“I’m glad mother stepped in as well. As much as I miss them with my entire heart, I fear things in Morfis are about to grow heated, and very fast. And what of Lila and Ogier? How are they?”

>“Your little brother talks about joining the Knights of Seiros. Blair isn’t thrilled with the idea, but after I told her I’d be coming here, she seemed to warm up to it. I guess she figured there were far more dangerous things her son could be doing. As for Lila, she’s still as shy and reserved as ever. She prefers to sit around in the castle, helping her mother and reading whatever she can get her hands on. I suppose it’s for the best that at least one Weaver child stays at home. They both miss their older sister though.”

Bronte sighs in relief. She takes a moment to compose herself, once again on the verge of tears, but manages to remain strong.

“Thank you, Tristain. I look forward to nothing more than seeing them all again. To do that though, I’ll need your help.”

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>>6269551
>“Are you going to tell me what’s going on here? I came here under the impression that all of this was to decide who would marry the Princess and nothing more. And yet, I keep running into people that suggest there is far more going on than meets the eye. What is your play in all of this, Bronte?”

“That still is the idea…for the most part.” Bronte says, growing serious. In a moment, she’s shifted from a nostalgic lost girl back into the Prime Minister of Morfis. “You very well may win this whole thing. In fact, I hope that you do. But first, I have a question for you. What is your involvement with the Cult of the Serpent? Truly?”

>“Those guys? They’re a really weird bunch.” You sigh. “They worship the Goddess, which is strange enough in these lands. But they’ve got a really weird way of going on about things. Some of them have Crests of an insignia I’ve never seen before, only they call them the ‘Dragon’s Blessing’ or some shit. A bunch of them started thinking I was special because they’d never seen my Crest before, let alone the fact that I have two. They revere some guy I’ve never heard of called Leviathan, but sometimes he’s called Ernest, and by all accounts he is an ACTUAL dragon who commanded that they destroy Morfis. Leviathan told them others like him would one day come from Fodlan, and well, they seemed to believe that was me. I used all of that to my advantage to take over a faction of the Cult, and together with the Scorchers of Hima, we smashed the rest of them in a battle.”

Bronte blinks rapidly, seemingly absorbing the information you’d just given her. “When did you get so…inventive?”

>“I suppose this place just brings it out of me.” You shrug.

“Did you truly defeat the Cult of the Serpent though?”

>“Not quite. Their leader is still around, probably with a splinter force beside him. My faction is supposed to be hunting him down, but given that I recently encountered the man on the way here, it seems they’re doing a pretty piss poor job.”

“You met their leader?!”

>“Marek. I did. He’s the fucking strangest of them all. He keeps going on and on about something called ‘Agarthans.’ I’ve no clue what his problem is.”

“Tristain.” Bronte mutters, rubbing her temples in a familiar way you found yourself missing. She’d normally look like this right before having to explain complex problems to you. “This is going to sound…difficult to believe. But…what this Marek told you…is not entirely untrue. Agarthans are real. In fact, this is technically an Agarthan city…with Agarthan rulers.”

>A): You’ve gone mad here, haven’t you?
>B): Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning.
>C): I’ve had enough of these ridiculous fairy tales. Why don’t you tell me why YOU’RE here?
>D): Write-in

>>6269552
>>B): Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning.
theeeere we go

>>6269552

>A): You’ve gone mad here, haven’t you?

>>6269551
>Castle Hohenzollern
Heh. Symbolism.

>>6269552
>A): You’ve gone mad here, haven’t you?
Give her a smirk while saying it, an absolute shit eating grin. That'd drive her nuts.

>>6269552
>B): Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning.
Good can't wait to skin that snake

>>B): Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning.

>>6269552
>>A): You’ve gone mad here, haven’t you?

>>6269552
>B): Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning

>>6269552
>B): Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning.
So is uncovering secret Agarthan things now a Weaver family trade or something? Actually, did Blair send Bronte here knowing this? If so that's some great trust for her daughter, or something like it, remember, we do have some Agarthans mingling around D'rusalka.

>>6269551
>Frankly, I’m glad she did. He’d have been really stuffy to have around.
Kek, yeah, he would be stiffy, he's a good guy through and through. Now I wonder what 40 year old Ashe is like. Kept his "follow your dreams" attitude I hope.
>>6269552
>D): Ah damn it. And here I thought I can just barrel through things, while remaining unaware of the bigger picture. What? It's a good life.
Alright fine. I wonder if Blair redpilled Bronte, or she found out herself.
The princess must be a snake then. Hopefully she's closer to the elf look than to the slitherer-in-the-dark look

>>6269552
>B): Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning.
Blair why did you send your beloved daughter to snakeland

>>6269552
>B): Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning.

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>>6269552
>“Goddess, not you too.” You groan, sagging down in your seat. Fine, fuck it. If even your cousin was going to give in to this madness, at least you’d try to hear it out with more consideration. “Explain what you mean. And start from the beginning!”

Bronte sighs, not immediately delving into an explanation. Rather, she seems to take a few moments to compose her thoughts, and you get the feeling that you’re the first person she’s ever had to relay this information to.

“Very well. I know exactly how insane this is going to sound, but please, promise to listen to me with an open mind.” Bronte pleads. “It all began…thousands of years ago.”

>“Of course it did.”

“Shut up! Let me finish!” She seethes, nails out, ready to lash at you. “For the record, a LOT of this is going to go against church doctrine. If they knew what I was about to tell you, they’d probably brand me a heretic. Save your interruptions and questions for the end, please.”

>“Fine.”

Bronte clears her throat. “Right. As you’re well aware, the Church teaches that humans were created by the Goddess, and that they spread out across the land and multiplied. However, in truth, we were not the first ones here. We were preceded by two ancient civilizations. The Agarthans were first. They were both a sorcerous and technological people, whose advancements in both fields dwarf that of what we know today. They worshipped not the Goddess, but a pantheon of their own deities, and they lived in vast cities made of steel that would put what you see here in Morfis to shame.”

Noticing a plate of untouched rice crackers on the table before you, you help yourself to a treat. You munch down as Bronte continues.

“The Agarthans had no knowledge of the Goddess until she appeared to them one day with her own spawn in tow. Those were the Nabateans. Humanoids with the ability to morph into a myriad of beasts, most chiefly among them, dragons. The Agarthans and Nabateans were able to coexist in peace for some time, but in truth, the Agarthans always had their suspicions of the Goddess. They already had their own gods they worshipped, and they viewed her as a foreign entity that did not make sense to them. An alien being with the power to create new life. A threat. Eventually, relations broke down, and the two races fought a war that threatened to destroy the entire world. The Nabateans won that war after the Goddess wiped the table clean with her power, and the few surviving Agarthans were exiled to the underground of Fodlan, condemned to suffer to the darkness, as well as to their growing madness and desires for vengeance. Eventually, even their very forms would twist, resembling nothing of humanity.”

Shit, the rice cracker had made your throat parched. You spot a tea kettle off to the side. Grabbing it, you are disappointed to find it empty.

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>>6269792
“However, not every Agarthan was driven underground.” Bronte continues, ignoring your thirst. “Before the Goddess had called the flood that would destroy their civilization and banish them to the underground, one Agarthan had fled. Xenophanes, the man who would eventually become the Sorcerer King. At the time, he was an Agarthan Sage of great power and influence. He’d sensed that the end was near, and taking four of his most loyal followers, they fled Fodlan upon an airship. Their destination was a little-known land. A barren desert where they could escape the Goddess and her children’s wrath and live out the rest of their days on the surface, free from the corruption that would eventually decimate their people. They came here, to Morfis.”

Oh, Bronte had one of those tiny little ice boxes that you’d seen in your room back at Shangri-La. Opening it, you’re greeted by a pleasant cold breeze. You grab a bottle from inside. Someone had painted an orange on its surface. Neat!

“But when Xenophanes and his followers arrived, they were shocked at what they’d discovered.” Bronte says. “There were already humans living here. Humans whose origins could not be traced to either their own gods, nor those of the Nabateans. They were a primitive sort. Every day was a struggle for survival in these barren wastelands, and worse yet, they were subjected to the torments of a myriad of what Xenophanes viewed as ‘lesser spirits.’ Supernatural beings that, while not as powerful as the Goddess, demanded tribute and worship. Something about what he saw moved him, and rather than living out his life in exile, Xenophanes decided he would help these people. In time, many of them came to see him as a god in his own right. They had no comprehension for the magic that he wielded, and due to the extended lifespan he enjoyed as an Agarthan, he was not far off.

>“I read a pretty sophisticated book about this once.” You say, enjoying the refreshingly cold orange juice. “Everything’s all happy days until Leviathan shows up, right?”

Bronte nods. “One day, a fluke accident occured. The airship that Xenophanes had come to Morfis on, which had sailed over the skies of Morfis unperturbed for over a century, suddenly crashed into the desert by the power of a rogue spirit. The ship was swallowed by the sands, but not before something onboard gave off a signal. A powerful piece of Agarthan technology that cried out, and unfortunately for Morfis, someone had heard it. A Nabatean who’d been searching for Agarthan survivors to put an end to them. Ernest. Leviathan. He flew to Morfis, and was enraged by what he discovered. He rallied those who held mistrust for Xenophanes to his side, and soon enough, war erupted.”

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>>6269793
>“Oh, that thing about the ship, you must have been talking about Fortuna. I actually released her from imprisonment in Shangri-La. She’s a bit weird, but seemed harmless enough. She actually gave me her blessing if you can believe that.”

“I can, and I cannot adequately express how much your nonchalant attitude towards these sorts of things horrifies me.” Bronte says through gritted teeth. “But you appear to have the gist of it all now. Xenophanes managed to defeat Ernest by unknown means. The story is that he gave his life to do so. In reality, neither Xenophanes nor Ernest left a body behind, so we do not truly know. But neither have been around in over a thousand years. Before he vanished though, he’d already consorted with a human woman. Their descendants became the royal family of Morfis. Over the centuries, many of those new rulers made changes that were perhaps not in line with Xenophanes’ original vision. Certain kings took it upon themselves to make distinctions between those who could use magic and those who couldn’t, and soon a magocracy was born. It’s all led to where we are now.”

>“And where is that?”

Bronte looks you dead in the eye. “If we don’t play our cards right, the end of Morfis, and perhaps the entire world as we know it.”

>“Where’d you even hear all this shit?”

“From Princess Yulia herself.” Bronte says. “Much of this information has been passed through the royal family for generations.”

>“And you just believe it?”

“I do.” She says determinedly. “The question is, do you believe me?”

>A): I believe you.
>B): This is all…a bit hard to take in.
>C): I think you sound crazy.
>D): Look, I just came here to win a Princess…
>E): Write-in

>>6269795
>B): This is all…a bit hard to take in.
but...
>A): I believe you.
Like what we heard from the cultists this should be about right, but we have our preserves about it.

>>6269795
>C): I think you sound crazy.
>A): I believe you.

>>6269795
>D): Look, I just came here to win a Princess…

>>6269795
>E): Write-in
"So how come I can't turn into a dragon?"

>>6269795
>C): I think you sound crazy.
>BUT
>A): I believe you.

>>6269795
>C): I think you sound crazy.
however
>A): I believe you.

Also Tristain's quest for snacks had me cracking up

>>6269795
>C): I think you sound crazy.

>A): I believe you

>>6269795
>B): This is all... a bit hard to take in.
She has no reason to lie to us, but that doesn't mean the heat around here hasn't fried her brain, or at least it doesn't mean we don't think that's what happened.

>>6269795
>A): I believe you.
Sure why not we already seen crazier thing

>>6269795
>>E): Ancient history aside, I do believe that some sort of war is coming. Three sides, right? Marek, Royal family and The four sages of the College. And maybe whoever was behind Andreas.
I don't think tristain cares about lore much. But he's gotta see that something is brewing, in the present.

Also Tristain looking for food and drink is a nice way to lighten the lore dump. Good job, Tree

>>6270005
>Tristain:''A war between Three Houses you could say.''

>>6269795
>A): I believe you.
>E): Is Princess Yulia attractive?
With all the weird shit he's already seen here and it being stated that both Yulia and the Sages are old, this shouldn't be too unbelievable for Tristain at this point.
Though it's not like anything Bronte confirmed so far changes much for Tristain. He still wants to win the competition and Marek wanting to burn down Morfis is bad.

Bronte being a bad host and continuing to exposition dump while Tristain has to look for snacks and drinks along with Chelsey being surprised at Tristain showing restraint in the previous update were great.

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>>6269795
>“I think you sound crazy.” You tell Bronte. “As if the heat of the desert has absolutely cooked your brain. But…I suppose I believe you. You’ve been here longer than I have. And your story sort of matches up with what that lunatic Marek had told me. Still, history lessons aside, what’s this have to do with the present day? I don’t see very many dragons flying around. And these Agarthans have just been sitting around in the desert keeping themselves isolated from the rest of the world, no? Then what’s the big deal? What do you mean by the end of Morfis?”

“This room is magically sealed. Any words we speak will not reach the outside. Tristain…what I am about to tell you is of the utmost importance and secrecy.” Bronte says. The atmosphere in the room grows tense as your cousin leans forward, her gaze piercing right through you. “In all of Morfis, I am the only one alive who knows this truth. You must swear to not reveal what I say to another soul. Promise me. And show me your hands as you do so. I already know all your tricks.”

>“I swear.” You say, holding your hands outright so that Bronte could see you were not crossing your fingers.

“Princess Yulia…” Bronte whispers. “Is unable to use magic.”

>“What?” You chuckle inadvertently. “The princess of the Sorcerer Kingdom can’t use sorcery?”

Bronte shakes her head. “She is the first descendant of the Sorcerer King in over a thousand years who cannot. It is not unheard of for magical talent to skip a generation. There are many plain examples of it back home. However, something like that happening here has deeper consequences. Morfis is a magocracy, and one that reveres the Sorcerer King and his family as their rightful rulers. If the people ever found out that Yulia was unable to use magic, they would view it as the end of the Sorcerer King’s dynasty. The family would fall out of favor. At that point, the leadership of Morfis would fall to the Royal Sages. It is for that reason Yulia is kept out of sight, and why we need a new ruler that can actually fight back.”

>“Is that the reason for the contest? But what’s your problem with the Sages taking over?”

“Because the Sages wish to open Tartarus.” Bronte says. “And that is where the end of the world comes into play.”

>“That mausoleum right? Seems everyone wants to open it, but no one knows what’s inside. Alvin seems to think it’s a place of creation, while the cult seems to think opening it will destroy Morfis outright.”

“Of the two, the cult is probably closer to the truth.” Bronte says. “Tell me, do you remember learning about the Valleys of Torment back in school?”

>“Ailell and Merceus, right?” The Valleys of Torment were the two most hellish places in Fodlan. They were giant craters where no life survived, said to be created after humans provoked the wrath of the Goddess.

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>>6270215
“Ailell has been in a ruinous state for ages, however, Merceus turned into one more recently. It used to be one of the old Empire’s strongholds. During the Unification War, it was suddenly wiped off the map by what was described as a beam of light falling from the sky. Even now, 25 years later, no life grows there. The official story from the Church was that, once again, the Goddess had been provoked. That she’d been angered by the countless lives lost due to the ongoing war. In truth, both Ailell and Merceus were the targets of ancient Agarthan weapons that were known as the ‘ICBM.’”

>“Eye See Bee Em?” You furrow your brow in your confusion. “Bronte, what the hell are you talking about?”

“That is what the weapons were referred to in the writings left behind by Xenophanes.” Bronte says urgently. “They are the worst combination of both magic and technology. Used thousands of years ago by the desperate Agarthans in their war against the Goddess. The ICBM that hit Merceus was launched by the Agarthans on Fodlan who’d been forced underground. The result of the blast could be felt even by the most powerful sorcerers here, many miles away. When the Sages and the former King learned of the ICBM launch, they were able to trace it to its source, and they uncovered the location of the underground city, Shambhala. They believed the old Agarthans were on the brink of extinction, and they were correct. Shambhala was destroyed, and the United Kingdom of Fodlan was born soon after. The threat of the ICBMs was seemingly gone for good.”

You burst out laughing, doubling over on the couch and grabbing your ribs. You laugh so hard that you are almost on the verge of tears. Bronte waits for you to finish, which to her, seems an eternity. After wiping your eyes with your cloak, you are finally able to muster up the will to say something.

>“Bronte…you realize how this all sounds, right? I mean…if your mother could hear you now, she’d drag you out of this land on the back of her pegasus herself.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Bronte asks, bitterly. “Don’t you know how badly I wish I could tell her? To confide in her and hear her counsel? Even if by some miracle I was able to send her a letter that was not intercepted, she’d think I’d gone insane. Who would believe a story as preposterous as this?”

>“Certainly not those old-timers.”

“Exactly. So do not mock me, Tristain. Please.”

>“Right, sorry. So back to Tartarus. What do you think is inside?”

Bronte takes a moment to compose herself before continuing. “When Xenophanes came to this land, he brought with him ICBMs. The idea was he’d use them against the Nabateans if they came for him, or possibly against Shambhala, who would have viewed him as a traitor and deserter. The only problem is, they’ve never been found.”

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>>6270218
>“Never been found? What do you mean? If they’re strong enough to flatten an entire city, they seem like they’d be pretty hard to misplace.”

Bronte shrugs her shoulders. “Exactly. And yet, no one knows where they are. When Ernest attacked Morfis, Xenophanes didn’t use them. One theory is that they were on the airship, and are now buried in the sands. The other theory is that Xenophanes willingly chose not to use these ICBMs because of the destruction they would cause to Morfis. All the work he’d done in creating this place would be for nothing. Having no means of disposing of them, the next best option would be to lock them away where no one could reach. In Tartarus.”

>“So, you think the Sages wish to open Tartarus to get these…ICBMs?”

Bronte nods. “The threat of using those weapons in the past meant potential reprisal from Shambhala. With them gone, the only ICBMs left to call on are here, in Morfis. If the Sages had access to that sort of terrifying power, there’s no telling what they might do with it. They already see themselves as above the rest of us. They take great pride in the ancient, uncorrupted Agarthan blood that flows through them.”

>“I keep hearing these Sages are so great, holding more influence than Yulia herself. If that’s the case, why haven’t they just knocked her off the throne and taken over already?”

“The Sages do not know Yulia cannot use magic.” Bronte smiles mischievously. “There are ancient spells weaved in this palace, as well as machines of war put in place by Xenophanes himself to keep it safe. They can only be activated by the magic of one who shares his blood. Yulia may not be able to do anything with them, but the Sages do not know that. It is out of an abundance of caution that they do not strike out at her. But as their influence and power grows, especially now that the makings of a key are in their possession, I do not wager that they plan to stay still forever.”

>“A question. Whatever is in Tartarus…there’s a possibility it may not be these weapons you speak of, correct?”

Bronte shrugs her shoulders. “There could be flowers and birthday cake inside, Tristain. If a Sorcerer King thousands of years old decided that they needed to be locked away forever, I’d rather a group of power hungry mages that refer to our home as the ‘Dark Continent’ not get their hands on them.”

>A): I was just kind of curious what was inside. I even thought about opening it myself.
>B): Fine, so when I win, we’ll keep Tartarus closed?
>C): What’s your deal with this Yulia? Why are you fighting so hard for her?
>D): I’ve heard enough. Just tell me about the Competition and what I need to do to win.
>E): Write-in

>>6270220
>E): Malek wants to opens Tartarus too
Think she's better know that.
>C): What’s your deal with this Yulia? Why are you fighting so hard for her?
And this I want to hear from the horse's mouth

>Bronte and Tristain writing off Blair
Smh kids these days, when Blair was their age she'd already killed three sages.

>Bronte stopping the finger crossing
Cute!

>>6270220
>A): I was just kind of curious what was inside. I even thought about opening it myself.
This explains why Chelsey has been opposed to Alvin and the Sages.
It's still incredibly tempting to open the door despite all the warnings.

>>6270220
>>B): Fine, so when I win, we’ll keep Tartarus closed?

>>6270220
>>6270224
I'm voting this, also yeah it's mad funny they're saying Blair would never believe them, she's going to have a heart attack after the end of this quest

>>B): Fine, so when I win, we’ll keep Tartarus closed?

>>6270224
Seconding this. I don't want to promise not to open Tartarus - it's like a giant mystery box! Also, we've only got the one side of the story. We should ask Alvin what this is all about from their end.

>>6270220
>>6270224
+1

>>6270240
>I don't want to promise not to open Tartarus - it's like a giant mystery box!
This is true.

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>“You don’t think I know that?” Bronte asks, bitterly. “Don’t you know how badly I wish I could tell her? To confide in her and hear her counsel? Even if by some miracle I was able to send her a letter that was not intercepted, she’d think I’d gone insane. Who would believe a story as preposterous as this?”
Hehehehe. Oh little Bronte, if you only knew what unholy retribution both Byleth and your mother would bring on this continent if they knew it's secrets.

>>6270220
>>6270224
>support
Well now we need to open that weird place

>>6270220
>E): You should know, Malek wants to open Tartarus, too.
Feels like we should warn Bronte about this, yes.

>>6270218
>“Certainly not those old-timers.”
Lol. Lmao even. Actually, now I really want to visit the embassy. See how much Archbishop's agents know.
I see we skipped the "Javelins of light" fantasy nomenclature. Can't wait for agarthian laser rifle loot drop.
>>6270220
>C): What’s your deal with this Yulia? Why are you fighting so hard for her?
Our future wife is a magelet, it's over.
>A): I was just kind of curious what was inside. I even thought about opening it myself.
The box. What's in the box?

I'm pretty sure Bronte knows about Malek. Tristain literally just said that cultists want to open the box and think it will destroy Morfis.

>>6270490
Well now I feel dumb.

>>6270451 here, changing to:
>>6270220
>A): I was just kind of curious what was inside. I even thought about opening it myself.

>>6270490
>>6270607
we could mention he allegedly has the key

>>6270220
>“What’s your deal with this Yulia anyway? Why are you fighting so hard for her? Because to me, it seems like you’re sticking your neck out quite readily. You know, I heard some pretty interesting rumors regarding your relationship…”

“Yulia is my friend, nothing more!” Bronte says rather defensively, a fierce blush creeping upon her cheeks. “Those ridiculous rumors that you’ve heard are just that! I have not bewitched her, nor are we in some sort of relationship! The fact of the matter is that she was the first friend I made upon coming to this land.”

>“How? I thought this place had her locked away tightly?”

“Do you recall when I was first offered the chance to study here?”

>“By the Goddess, another long story?”

“Shut up!” Bronte shouts, taking full advantage of the magically soundproof room you were in. “I’ll make it quick. You were there after all. I received an invitation from the Four Sages to study magic here in Morfis. A rare invitation that only a select few in Fodlan have ever been granted. Officially, the offer was made to improve relations and trade between Morfis and Rusalka. In reality, I later found out they simply wanted an excuse to come to Rusalka more frequently so they could hunt for the Agarthium needed to open Tartarus. When I arrived here, they were polite enough. They even taught me quite a bit. But there was a certain coldness there. Not just from them, but from everyone in the College. No matter how good I was, or how hard I trained, I was still a foreigner from the ‘Dark Continent.’ That was when I met Yulia. Despite not having the capacity for magic, she somehow managed to escape her quarters.”

>“How’d she do that?”

“Yulia may not know magic, but she’s a genius in her own right.” Bronte says. “In all her life, she’s had nothing to do but peruse the personal texts that belonged to the Sorcerer King and his Apostles. Ancient math, engineering, sciences I’ve never even conceived of, Yulia threw herself into it all. She found something that allowed her to slip the barriers placed by the former king and prime minister. And for the first time in her life, she was able to explore the very city she was princess of. She toured it all, taking great care to disguise herself. Eventually, word reached her of a foreigner that had come to Morfis to study. I piqued her interest, and she sought me out.”

>“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.” Bronte shrugs. “We hit it off well. For a while, she hid her true identity from me, pretending to be a local librarian’s apprentice. I’d finish my lessons at the College, and she’d be there waiting for me. She snuck out everyday to meet me. We went from exchanging our countries’ histories, to speaking of our hopes and dreams, of what we wished to accomplish. Eventually, she confided in me her true identity. And asked for my help.”

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>>6270980
>“That’s it?” You scoff, eyebrows raised in amazement. “You’ve been away from home for three years. Away from your family. Fighting a secret war against four powerful sages that are the descendants of an ancient advanced civilization…because she asked you to?”

“Yes, what of it?” Bronte asks, getting up and stretching out her limbs, seemingly exhausted from her endless explaining. “You know as well as I that our family never spoke of what they did during the war. Any time the subject was broached, they were quick to change topics. But I could see plainly, as well as you could I’m sure, that whatever they were involved with affected them greatly. My mother always tried to instill in us the importance of doing what was right. And of remaining loyal to your friends. I believe when it came to these two principles, she was greatly put to the test. Here I am now in the same predicament. Yes, I could leave Yulia to her fate, but that would not be the right thing to do. And I will not abandon my friend.”

>“That’s surprisingly bullheaded coming from you.”

“Now, who do you think I learned that from?” She smiles warmly.

>“Well, I have one more question. Perhaps the most important of all. You’ve seen Yulia. Face to face. Perhaps the only person alive who has. You’ve got me thousands of miles away, fighting a war you’ve brought me into. I have to know. Is she pretty?”

“Tristain, what?” Bronte staggers back, all manner of composure lost.

>“You heard me! Is she pretty? Or is she at least my type?”

Bronte thinks for a moment, rubbing her chin lost in thought. The room grows still, the silence deafening, as you wait for your cousin to give you her verdict.

“Truth be told…” Bronte mutters. “I’ve…never quite actually understood what your ‘type’ was…?”

>A): You liked women that were scrappy, fun, and cheerful. Sort of like May.
>B): You liked women that were stoic, demure, and with good morals. Sort of like Adeline.
>C): You liked women that were smart, confident, and resourceful. Sort of like Nadia.
>D): You liked women that were seductive, loyal, and talented. Sort of like Chelsey.
>E): You liked women that were strong, determined, and supportive. Sort of like Bronte.
>F): Write-in

>>6270981
damn, it would have been really funny if bronte did bed the princess before tristain even got here...
>>A): You liked women that were scrappy, fun, and cheerful. Sort of like May.
y'know what. even though Nadia is our MVP... having May around really makes everything better. she really is a black cat

>>6270981
Oh god, uh... I don't know the implications of this.
>E): You liked women that were strong, determined, and supportive. Sort of like Bronte.
I mean, they're all fun in their own ways but since there can only be THE ONE waifu then I'd like her to have a lot of tone variety.

>>6270981
>E): You liked women that were strong, determined, and supportive. Sort of like Bronte.

>>6270981
>A): You liked women that were scrappy, fun, and cheerful. Sort of like May
MAY
Yulia may be the princess of Morfis, but May is my Princess.

>>6270981
>B): You liked women that were stoic, demure, and with good morals. Sort of like Adeline.

>>6270981
>E): You liked women that were strong, determined, and supportive. Sort of like Bronte.
Contractually obligated to support her considering my ramblings last quest.

>>6270981
>C): You liked women that were smart, confident, and resourceful. Sort of like Nadia.
My goat and fuck incest whatever justification still weird

>>6270981
>C): You liked women that were smart, confident, and resourceful. Sort of like Nadia.

>>6270981

>A): You liked women that were scrappy, fun, and cheerful. Sort of like May.

>>6270981
>A): You liked women that were scrappy, fun, and cheerful. Sort of like May.
The true choice

>>6270981
>E): You liked women that were strong, determined, and supportive. Sort of like Bronte.

>>6270981
>D): You liked women that were seductive, loyal, and talented. Sort of like Chelsey.

>Sisterfuckers out in force
God damn it.
>>6270981
>B): You liked women that were stoic, demure, and with good morals. Sort of like Adeline.
time to die on my hill

>>6270981
>A): You liked women that were scrappy, fun, and cheerful. Sort of like May.
You could say that she... stole our heart
>*badumtss*

>>6270981
>E): You liked women that were strong, determined, and supportive. Sort of like Bronte.

>>6271283
Awful. Get off the stage.

>>6271309
Can't, I've already stolen this show!
>*badumtss*

Tie between A and E. I'll work with that. Writing.

For the record the tally was:
A: 5
B: 2
C: 2
D: 1
E: 5

Not a route lock, but just an estimation of where Tristain is with everyone.

>>6271375
motherfff-

>>6271376
In the last quest, people were pretty unified around Ashe from almost from the start. Now though, it looks like we might be on the brink of a waifu war. And Tristain hasn't even met Yulia yet...

>>6271387
It's sisterfuckers vs gremlinfuckers vs evil woman fans vs good woman fans. And that one guy who likes Chelsey
Shit's gonna be brutal
>In the last quest, people were pretty unified around Ashe from almost from the start
Yeah, Blair was a yandere

>>6271389
For me? It's Lady of the Oasis.

>>6271387
To be fair the decks were pretty much stacked in Ashe's favour: not only did he and Blair have a not in common but he had the plot on his side and thus a lot of screentime early on to win over the anons.

If he'd died or something I think Corrine would have won the Blairbowl for pretty similar reasons