More note-shuffling. "'The Game,' as Ms. Ramsey 'plays' it, consists of selecting some even number of participants— the amount would appear to depend on base population size— and pitting them together in a fight to the death. From what we know, this functions as follows. Participants are volunteers first, but might be coerced if not enough volunteer. Participants are granted 'tokens.'" Lucky deposits a gold coin-looking thing on the table. Monty averts his eyes. You lean closer: oh! It has Jean Ramsey's smug face on it, like the one Wayne was carrying. You're not sure why this one's, er, encrusted in fleshy bits, though. "These tokens are embedded in participants' bodies, presumably to ensure they aren't traded bloodlessly. We believe they mark kills. Participants play 'The Game' for multiple days, up to a week or two, collecting these 'tokens,' until they are whittled down to—"

He looks at Eloise. "Sixteen," she says. "Or thereabouts."

"Sixteen. The 'victors' are prevented from further violence, and Ms. Ramsey grants them, for their victory, a mutation. The victors are thus brought into Ms. Ramsey's fold, and they travel to their new destination, where the process repeats. Some of the previous victors are killed, and some, with their advantages, continue to succeed. If so, their mutations are layered. Ms. Ramsey has dubbed these successive competitions 'Rounds,' and will be dubbing the final 'Round' we now find ourselves in the 'Grand Finale.' She is bringing a large cohort of seasoned—"

"Evildoers," you say confidently.

"—seasoned 'Game players' with her. They retain varying degrees of humanity. With the appearance of the barrier, she will presumably be making her appearance in short order, and the next round of participants will volunteer or be conscripted. And then we will witness bloodshed. These are the basic facts of the scenario."

Eloise is right. You did pretty much know that all already. "Um, are there non-basic facts? To clarify, everybody arriving is an evildoer, right?"

Monty laces his fingers— his regular ones, his spooky ones. "What does that word mean to you, Charlotte?"

Isn't it obvious? "They— they entered themselves in a murder competition. Then they won the murder competition, maybe multiple times, so they like murdering. They're good at murdering."

"Or maybe they got pressured in," Eloise says. "Maybe they got lucky. No reference to present company intended."

Lucky tilts his head. "Ms. Fawkins has a point, Ms. Crenshaw. There have been at least three previous rounds; the majority of innocents will have been killed, or they are no longer innocent. What's more, depending on the extent of their mutations, they may have little to no access to any previous source of morality."

"We don't know that," Eloise informs you.

(2/5)

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"Ms. Fawkins, I will feel no remorse at whatever must be done. Perhaps Ms. Crenshaw is unaware of the collateral damage that has resulted from these 'Games'?"

"I'm not unaware. The question was whether the contestants were universally evil, which—"

"It appears that Ms. Ramsey has vocally expressed her interest in large and 'splashy' fights. Mr. Gewecke has confirmed that this has been her established opinion for quite some time. Fights are 'splashiest' when they involve more than two participants, when they take place in front of an audience of non-participants, and when they involve, it would appear, considerable amounts of physical destruction. Ideally of property, but, from the sounds of it, Ms. Ramsey does not much object to the injury or death of non-participants. She does, however, object to non-participants refusing to watch or attempting to flee the scene entirely. Thus the barrier. Thus this debrief, Mr. Gewecke, Ms. Crenshaw, Ms. Fawkins. If this were a matter of consenting adults choosing their natural end, however immoral or gruesome, it would not strictly be the Wind Court's purview. However—"

"I thought it wasn't the Wind Court's purview," you say. "I thought you, um, quit."

"You appear to be misinformed, Ms. Fawkins. Such things happen when a person vanishes for weeks. My subordinates and I are still very much part of the Wind Court. Unfortunately, it is the Eyrie that has forsaken the name. A pity." He smiles, close-lipped. "As I was saying, there is, in my educated opinion, a real and present danger to both the people and the infrastructure of the Corcass. This being the 'Grand Finale,' Ms. Ramsey will undoubtedly be seeking maximum spectacle. I am not taking this lightly. While I don't have the manpower to singlehandedly—"

"Hold on." You tap on the table. "Haven't you known about the barrier for weeks, probably? Couldn't everybody have evacuated before Ramsey showed up?"

"We tried," Eloise says, as Monty says "It's not that easy," as Lucky's smile turns sour. "Firstly, I'll note your lack of any assistance in the efforts here, Ms. Fawkins. Most of us did not have the luxury of holing up and avoiding responsibility. In fact, efforts were made to promote evacuation. They were largely refused. The Wind Court is not, by and large, trusted in this region." ("Wonder why!" Eloise says.) "Moreover, residents of the local town did not want to leave their homes and return to mass destruction. Meanwhile—"

"I thought Camp was portable?" you ask Monty. "It's all tents, and—"

"Kid," Eloise says, "you think anyone you know wants to tuck their tail and run? Come on."

You frown. "I mean, there's a lot of people at Camp I don't know."

(3/5)

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"Well, think about the average demographic! I'll help. The average person on the seafloor is male... ages 18-40... and dumb enough, reckless enough, or criminal enough to get themselves thrown down here. And, let me tell you, they did not stop being dumb, reckless, or criminal— I mean, most of them didn't." She jabs Monty's shoulder. He doesn't respond. "Even if they don't know Charlotte Fawkins from a hole in the ground, most people want to tell Ramsey to shove it. Some personally. I mean, Charlotte, I know you didn't know her that well, but she did live here. And she was polarizing! Much like a certain someone. So, no, no budging."

"More relevantly," Monty says, "imagine Camp did move. If you move with us, Jean will follow. If you don't move with us, that's you alone against— we don't know exactly how many people. Dozens. Before you face Ramsey. I know your circumstances are..." His eyes flick toward Lucky. "...unique, but I have no intention of throwing you to the wolves. We have no intention. We're in this together."

"Oh," you say, flustered. "Well, my circumstances are unique, so I probably would be fine. I— I really don't need—"

"I need it," Monty says evenly. "Also, I don't think Jean would enjoy pitting a few dozen against you, particularly with nobody watching. Odds are 50/50 she'd search us out and drag us back to spectate, if not worse. I believe she has the power for that."

Lucky nods. You adjust your tail and try not to look like you're adjusting your tail. Nobody here knows about the tail. "But it's okay, because I'm going to stop her. And her wicked band of..." You really wish you had more of a consensus on the evildoing. "Monty, do you think they're evildoers? You didn't say whether you did."

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask." He rubs his nose. "...As Mr. Blaine pointed out, the participants are largely volunteers. He didn't mention why anybody would want to volunteer. It's not just bloodlust."

"'Just,'" you say.

"Some of it is bloodlust. Some of the volunteers will have killed before. Some were thrown off their Pillar for committing murder. Some people play the Game because they enjoy killing— Jean, for instance. Not most. The rest are in it for the wealth, or the fame, or the excitement, or the desire to succeed. I'm talking about the ordinary Game here, but the same motivations could apply. I think they mostly don't, though."

"Why is why you listed them!" Eloise says.

"That's because, unlike the actual Game, Jean has offered a public reward. Did you know that?"

You think. "...Yes? The winner can duel her for the Crown?"

(4/5?)

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"Or they can surrender and win one wish. Jean will make your wish come true. Whatever you want. Not whatever you want, actually, because I doubt she'll permit funny business, but she considers herself a..." Monty waves his hand. "...a benefactor, you know. A friend of the common man, provided the common man kills thirty for her amusement. That's not the point. The point is, Charlotte, offering people whatever they want— anything they want— impossible things— it'll bring out the worst in them. Their nastiest and most selfish impulses. Ask me how I know."

"...I thought you asked Ramsey not to hurt me," you say.

"I thought the deed was possible to accomplish without hurting you. If I didn't think so... I don't know. I can't speak to that." The fingers lace again. "Jean will be bringing with her some innocents, Charlotte, some monsters, and a clawing horde of desperates. That's what I think. If you'd prefer to call them evildoers, I wouldn't mind."

You're silent. "I probably will."

"Then that's just fine. Mr. Blaine, did you have anything else for us?"

Lucky, who was starting to look put-out, clears his throat. "Yes. I—"

A knock at the door. Lucky pinches his eyes. "WE'RE OCCUPIED."

This doesn't stop your interrupter from cracking the door. "Sir, it's— it's really—"

"Hey, now, thanks for the help, but I can take it from here!" Lucky stands as the door bangs open— and Monty stands, and you stand. (Your tail hurt, anyways.) Eloise stays seated. Ramsey is here.

In the flesh. No Crown visible, and no giant axe, either. Spooky black robes, spooky black gloves, but no mask: just her broad chiseled grinning face, looking down on you and Eloise, about level with Lucky and Monty's. Behind her, Kichima the Courtier is apologizing, but nobody's listening.

"...Ms. Ramsey," Lucky says first, to his credit. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Hey! Pleasure's all mine!" She shoves her hand out toward him, and he (instinctively?) shakes it. He doesn't explode into a million pieces, which is good, because you were a little worried.

She sticks her arm out toward Eloise next— Eloise, still sitting, has turned uncharacteristically chilly. "It's been a while," she says.

"Sure has!" says Ramsey, who leans over, grabs Eloise's hand, and shakes it. But doesn't tear her arm from her socket, which is also good. Monty next. "Long time no see, Gewecke! Say, you never wrote me back! Courier got lost?"

He doesn't offer his hand. "What you're doing is unconscionable, Jean."

(5/6)

"Hey! That's my good old stick-in-the-mud! I'll getcha yet." In lieu of shaking his hand, she leans over and punches his shoulder, then glances at you. "And hi! You're... eh..."

You wait. She does not arrive at your name. Is she... is this a ploy? To demoralize you? No! "I'm Charlotte Fawkins!"

"OH! Oh, yeah! Sorry! Shit, it's been a long coupla— Charlotte Fawkins. Remembering that. Knew you were around here somewhere, just forgot— well, anyways!"

Your despicable, loathsome arch-nemesis, the Crown Thief Jean Ramsey, sticks her gloved hand out to shake. You stare.

>[A1] Shake her hand with all the strength you have.
>[A2] Shake her hand with all the strength you can possibly imagine having. (Advanced Advanced Gaslighting.) [Roll.]
>[A3] Refuse to shake.
>[A4] Write-in.

>[B] Questions or commentary for your despicable, loathsome arch-nemesis? Or for Lucky, Monty, or Eloise, if you really want. (Write-in. Optional.)


Side-note: I will be trying to update this weekend, but it's not impossible I'll have to skip a couple days right after I post this. Sorry! Bad timing! But so it goes.

---------------------------------------


>Announcements
I'm back for the PENULTIMATE (probably) thread of DROWNED QUEST REDUX! This has been a long, long ride, folks. Let's see it through.

>Schedule
One a day, occasionally more if the first one was short. There may be sporadic half-updates (no options) if I start writing too late in the evening, sorry in advance. I am in the PST timezone.

>Dice
We use a 3d100 roll over degrees of success system with crits. The base DC is 50. Modifiers may be applied to the roll or to the DC as relevant. The # of rolls that match or exceed the DC determine the result. Probabilities may be found in the Dice and Mechanics pastebin.

The degrees are:
0 Passes = Failure
1 Pass = Mitigated Success
2 Passes = Success
3 Passes = Enhanced Success
0/1/100 = Critical Success / Critical Failure / Critical Success [regardless of other rolls]

>Mechanics
The (typical) MC has a pool of 15 Identity ("ID"), which may be considered both HP and the measure of her current sense of self. It may be lost through physical, metaphysical, or emotional damage. It may be regained through write-ins, designated options, and at reasonable narrative points, including sleep. It may be spent on a flat +10 bonus to rolls, as well as on more elaborate metaphysical effects. Dropping to 0 ID is bad.

>Archive
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=drowned%20quest%20redux

>Fancy archive (PDF of 1-47 -- I have 48 in a doc but not a PDF yet, sorry)
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1i4whn-TXxkLwjtnVB2RUmb1fehj1hOyA/view?usp=sharing

>Twitter
https://twitter.com/BathicQM

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>Pastebins
https://pastebin.com/u/BathicQM

>Recaps
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VPJwXzTpv4lO_t6R3jA32NLbKjdIZjtJlRFsWQgBMnM/edit?usp=sharing

>Ask the characters (or the QM), get a drawn response... uhh... I don't know if I'm going to do this before the quest ends. Sorry, folks! But I'll keep this link here for posterity...
https://curiouscat.live/BathicQM [ALMOST CERTAINLY DOWN, I'll make a new one... maybe... sometime...]

>"Redux"?
This quest is a loose sequel to the original Drowned Quest, which ran for eight short threads in 2019. Reading the original may help with context in very early Redux threads, but is not required.

>I have a question/comment/concern?
Tell me!

>ANNOUNCEMENT I FORGOT
Attached is some beautiful Charlotte art from long-time QM and Drowned reader DemBones! Truly it captures Charlotte's essence. Thanks Bones!

.
-----------------
.
>TO-DO

Short-term goals:
- Kick Jean Ramsey's lackies' asses

Long-term goals:
- Challenge Jean Ramsey (and her snake) to epic single combat (probably); reclaim the Crown
- Become God
- Save the world

Mysteries:
- Is it actually possible to defeat the Wyrm for any extended length of time?

.
.
>LAST TIME ON DROWNED QUEST REDUX

Annoyed at Richard for acting too reasonable (he killed your father!!), you bail on him and go hit up Henry for help with cultist things. Henry suggests that you try invading Claudia's dream, which you manage cleanly: she's dreaming about being trapped in goo, and, when you dig her out, dreams that you're her long-dead mother. Henry tugs you out of there, and you do some sword-practice with one of the cultists, then continue your adventures in dream-invading. You use your Earth Powers to locate Gil and enter his dream remotely. He's dreaming about building an incomprehensible device to 'prevent the end of the world,' but your presence makes it fall apart, and when you snap Gil out of it he gets anxious and asks that you leave.

When you wake up, Richard, in a fit of pique, has turned himself into a snake. You turn him back long enough for him to inform you that he's about to make some major alterations, and you consent to growing EPIC LIZARD HORNS and an EPIC LIZARD TAIL. Days(?) later, you emerge from Cult HQ and check in on Lucky, who tells you that the nefarious Leftenant Fawkins has vanished into the wilderness, and that he intends to do his own research on Jean Ramsey. You remind him that you can use your God powers to put him back on the surface, and he asks you what you intend to do with said powers after the easy stuff is out of the way. You imagine an ideal world, but aren't able to put it into words.

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Some time later, you're visiting Real Ellery, who's now been part of the Headspace Collective for (subjectively) six months. He's a little grouchy-- he hasn't been able to integrate into the hivemind like the rest of the employees-- but Anthea is keeping him company. The two of them offer suggestions for what to do with your God powers (bring back the Eight? fixing Anthea's face? helping the remaining lociits victims?), then tinker away at the Charlotte-duplicating device, boosting your extrarealness in the process.

Richard is still sulking in snake form. You're half-inclined to leave him like that, but you still need to visit Satellite, and you don't want to let him sabotage that plan. You drag him into your manse, where he hooks you up to his mind to test the Satellite transfer. You probe around a little, then-- out of a desire to provoke him-- push as deep as you can get. Richard finds you quickly, but is still maddeningly reasonable about getting you out of there. You escape, even as Richard changes you into your younger self, then a cat, then a tiny lizard: bored and spiteful, you jump down his mind-throat and into a sea of sticky black goop. Unable to free yourself without effort, you ruminate on how you're still totally, definitely going to kill Richard, who hates you, or doesn't care about you, or-- didn't he hurt you one time, then wiped your memory? Gil told you he did. Desperate for something to fuel your vengeance with, you surface Richard's memory of that occasion...

...Which is complex! Ugh! Richard did hurt you and wipe your memory of it (back in Thread 23), but he did it because he was sad/scared/furious about thinking you were dead. You ditch that memory and go fishing around for something else, but it's even worse-- of that time (in Thread 34) when he hurt himself rescuing you from the Wyrm, then read your memory about what happened then. You wonder if you can access his memory of your memory, and give it a shot, but are unexpectedly pulled *through* the memory to view the Wyrm itself. You glimpse the Herald through the pupil of the Wyrm's eye, then things get fuzzy.

You are the Herald, who is Charlotte Fawkins, and who is bumming around outside reality bothering the Wyrm-- who seems to be waiting for you to "reconcile" yourself with It, and who has no interest in freeing the agents. You give up on the bothering and opt to possess your own body instead, startling Richard, who was worried about your disappearance. After you reveal yourself as the Herald, you and Richard work together to plant a garden around your manse, then install an epic fire lake around that for funsies. He and you also speak frankly about the future, and about your odd relationship-- he shares a cigarette, you say you'll miss him, he expresses regret for what he's done, and you hug him, sort of. Then you go.

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Now the present-day Charlotte Fawkins, you have no memory of the Herald's visit, but discover that she some additional alterations-- your horns have started growing in. Also, you're (very slightly) taller! Hooray! You go visit Monty, who informs you that Jean Ramsey is "hosting" a version of the murderous Game she and Monty competed in, and who invites you to the new Game Night.

Naturally, you attend. Madrigal attempts to teach you blackjack, which doesn't really work, and also lets you know that Ellery told her you were God. She claims that she doesn't need any miracles, but your detective/divine(?) intuition suggests that she wants the chance to reconcile with her estranged family. You offer to create a magyck radio service to connect abovewater with. Shaken, Madrigal changes the subject, and Monty comes by to rope you, her, and Gil into a game of poker. After losing miserably, you find a table playing a dice game, and proceed to Herald-psych yourself into having unnaturally good luck... then freak out and pass out. Oh well.

You're in your tent when Richard wakes you up-- Richard from the future! He's decided that you're finally sufficiently Heraldy, and it's time for Satellite at last. You're pulled through his mind into a bland cubicle, look up, and discover Richard's true from: he's a scaly, bipedal, 8-foot-tall lizard person. Also, filtered through his mind, you're a lizard person too. Huh. You're led through the agents' office, where you spy on Correspondent #301's preemptive victory party and run into R/D-C #1-- then Future Richard vanishes you to keep you out of trouble. When you reappear, Future Richard has implemented his master plan, and you are on your way to the Director.

Future Richard browbeats the Director's receptionist, and you enter. The Director is surprisingly diffident, and you quickly learn that 1) he's just been recycled and 2) he has no earthly idea what he's doing. He still doesn't believe you're the Herald, though, so you chew some gulfweed to show him. Instead of contacting the Herald, you contact yourself, and emerge from the feedback loop changed. You ask the Director to strip #301 of his assignment, and he sprints away to presumably do so.

You're snapped out of it by Future Richard, who briefly turns you human just to have fun looming over you, then sends you back to your manse-- with a confused normal Richard inside. With your new knowledge, you visualize him in his natural lizard state, but he freaks and asks you to put him back. You do.

With three weeks remaining until Jean Ramsey shows up, you make the most of your time: getting more of the scoop on Jean Ramsey from Monty, Eloise, and Lucky; checking in on the *non*-absorbed Headspace survivors (they seem to be doing mostly ok); working with Ellery to get the Charlotte-duplicator up and running (you name it the "Recharlottizator"); and letting Claudia try to perform a ritual on you. The ritual succeeds in putting you in a trance and making you shed your skin, but hits a snag when you hallucinate an infinite void, confront your own mortality, and start screaming your head off. You awaken a few hours later completely fine to a shaken and apologetic Henry and Claudia-- and a blase Richard, who puts you under for another protracted length of time. An unclear amount of time later, you have a tail. Like, an actual one. And horns. You're showing both off to Gil, and even let him touch it, but get wigged out by the unspoken intimacy and use your now-remarkably-developed divine powers to turn him into beetles (and back). This sparks a conversation about the near future, with Gil expressing some doubts about the plan he'd been keeping to himself. You tell him that things might be different once you're God, but you're sure it's going to be fine.

Later, Richard doesn't think that everything will be fine. He also expresses some doubts he'd been keeping to himself-- namely, that, even if you manage to "usurp" the Wyrm, he's uncertain whether the Wyrm's mind will be gone-- or just pushed aside and pissed off. He's concerned that any control you have will be limited, and, if (when) you lose it, the Wyrm will promptly end the world right after. He thinks you need to consider the possibility of, um, of using your window of opportunity to put the Wyrm down permanently. And, since you will be the Wyrm, you'd have to go with it. You rattle off a bunch of alternatives to LITERALLY DYING, but Richard's been thinking this through, and he shoots down all of them for various reasons. He tells you to think about it. You think about it, decide you have zero interest in dying, and cry a whole lot. Eventually, you let Richard put you to sleep, hoping you'll be feeling more positive in the morning.

In the morning, you do feel better, having opted to think of the whole thing as a "heroic sacrifice." You're still not entirely keen on it, though, and propose using the Recharlottizer to clone you after the Wyrm is dead. Richard is skeptical this will work, but you decide to ask Ellery about it-- and maybe Us? Actually, doesn't Us contain a dream world where a dream version of you wouldn't have to think about dying at all? Dragging Gil along, you convince Us to let you take a vacation... which is as pleasant as expected, except for the fact you can barely remember what happened in it. And for the fact that Us read your mind while you were inside and wants to talk to you about death and the Wyrm and everything. You aren't sure how to feel about this, and are glad when Us spits up Gil-- it's time, at last, to focus on stomping Jean Ramsey's face in. Onward!

----------------

>Don't forget to scroll allllllll the way up and vote!

>A3
We don't shake hands with hussies.

>>6283686
>[A2] Shake her hand with all the strength you can possibly imagine having. (Advanced Advanced Gaslighting.) [Roll.]
We minmaxxed for gaslighting, we're going to use it.

>>6283686
>A2
Rawr
>B
How's the crown she STOLE from us!? She stole our prized family heirloom and didn't even remember our name, wow. She couldn't even steal it on her first try, it took her two attempts, and she has the gall to forget our name.
Also how's #301 doing? Still got a peachy relationship with Upper Management? Hehehe

>>6283686
>>[A2] Shake her hand with all the strength you can possibly imagine having. (Advanced Advanced Gaslighting.) [Roll.]

YOOOO second to last thread. Congrats QM!

>[A2] Shake her hand with all the strength you can possibly imagine having. (Advanced Advanced Gaslighting.) [Roll.]

Rolled 31, 47, 28 + 50 = 156 (3d100 + 50)

>>6283782
>>6284094
>>6284099
>>6284158
>[A2]

>>6283696
>[A3]

Called for [A2] + asking about the Crown and #301. I'd normally ask you guys to roll, but I'm calling this super late, so I'll be doing the dice myself.

Not actually rolling for the Advanced Advanced Gaslighting, because >>6283782 is right: you specced into both it and [Extrareal], and temporarily adjusting your grip strength without visible physical change is relatively trivial. Congrats, you're an honest-to-God reality warper now (though I might still make you roll for more advanced things... Advanced Advanced Advanced Gaslighting, if you will).

That being said, Ramsey is a tough customer, so my roll will be for whether your handshake actually makes an impact on her.

>Rolling 3d100 + 50 (+20 Herald's Body, +20 Gaslighted, +10 Pre-Enhanced Grip Strength) vs. DC 100 (+30 Crown-Molded, +15 Physical Prime, +15 No Quarter, -10 Crown Not Actually Present) to extract a reaction from your loathsome arch-nemesis Jean Ramsey!

>>6284094
>She stole our prized family heirloom and didn't even remember our name, wow
Other way around: the implication is that she remembered your name (#301 has probably been reminding her, if nothing else) but forgot what you looked like. Whether the forgetting is legit or whether she's just screwing with you is up to your interpretation.

>>6284158
Thanks!

>>6284291
>81, 97, 38 vs. DC 100 -- Failure

Drowned dice welcoming us back! That's okay. You'll have plenty of time to revenge this humiliation later.

Writing.

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>CRUSH HERRRR
>81, 97, 38 vs. DC 100 — Failure

Declining to shake would be cowardice. Won't you be facing her down in actual battle? Isn't your victory absolutely certain? You may as well let her know as early as possible. Grab her hand— Ramsey grins— and squeeze. Squeeze. Dig your talons through her glove and turn your knuckles white. Think about Richard, a million years ago, making your grip strong, then make it stronger. All your power and all the Herald's in one hand. You can see it now, Ramsey's bones cracking, her startled grimace, her...

You can see it, but you can't make it real. Ramsey's grin is unbudged, and no hand is inside her glove. It's limp. She grabs your outstretched hand with her other one and shakes it vigorously, then leans over and ruffles your hair. It happens too quick for you to dodge, especially when she bonks your horn, makes an 'O' with her mouth, and runs her hand up it. Now you wrest away, but the damage is done. Her dominance is asserted.

>[ID: 16/16]
>[Positive Thinking VII: You no longer suffer ID damage from being (or feeling) slighted!]

Too bad you don't care. You are the Herald of the Bright Epoch. This might not be entirely true until you regain the Crown, until you meet your destiny head-on, but it is more than true enough. Jean Ramsey might think she's something, but her destiny is to die by your hand. She and her stupid snake will amount to nothing. Even if she succeeded, the Wyrm would obliterate her, and she'd amount to nothing.

It'll be a while until she's aware of that, though— she's plopping into an empty seat at the moment. "So! I gotta say, it's awfully convenient, you all being in one place. Makes this a lot faster! Anyways. How much have you all heard about the little competition I have going?"

"Truthfully, Ms. Ramsey," Lucky says, "we were winding down our discussion of the very—"

"Don't demean us, Jean. The Game is not a 'little competition,' and—"

"Where's the Crown?" you say. "You stole it, remember?"

"Huh? Oh. Not here!" Ramsey informs you. "Didn't think it was real needed. I'm just trying to catch up with my old pals. Sorry if you wanted to see it— it is awful pretty all goosed up— and handy! Thanks for the borrow! Anyways. I don't want to bore you guys with stuff you know, so stop me if you have questions. The Game's grand finale is going to launch right here, real soon. Everybody's invited to come watch— I'd really like them watching— but not intervening, 'kay? Intervening spoils the fun. There's gonna be some blood, but that's part of the—"

"How's #301 doing?" Her defeat is certain, but that doesn't mean you won't needle her where you can. "Still employed?"

Ramsey wrinkles her brow. "Who?"

"...Your snake."

(1/5?)

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"Oh! Oh. Snickers." She pats her shoulder. "Doing great! He says hi to 'Wingnut.' Still don't know who that is, but boy, he gets talk. Anyhow, would you mind if I kept going? We got all these people here, and I don't want to waste their..."

Damnit! Has Headspace still not happened? Or did the Director bungle it? You have no choice but to wait and see. "Let the woman speak, Ms. Fawkins," Lucky is saying, even though you already stopped. Damn him too, and imagine heads lopped off shoulders while Ramsey keeps rambling. "Great. Well..."

She blah-blah-blahs through stuff you mostly know and just talked about— Eloise's and Lucky's collective information seems to have been accurate, at least, which is a consolation. Your heroic intuition, and a nudge of Eloise's foot, snaps you out in time for the important part. "So," Ramsey is saying, "I'm going to need some volunteers, 'kay?"

"Nobody is interested in your charade, Jean." Monty is cold. "Charlotte, possibly. You would have to ask her. But only if she consents, and nobody else."

"Aw! Gewecke! I'm real sorry, but we have a whole bunch of open spots! Last time was a little rougher than expected, you know. Lemme see. I think..." She counts on her fingers, then holds her hand out. "Eight!"

The hand has eight fingers. "Out of the QUESTION," Monty says, and is standing again— bolted right out of his seat. "You THINK I'll send eight people off to die—"

"You don't know they'll die!" Ramsey says cheerily. "Maybe they'll win! But it's about the journey, not the destination, huh?"

"Shut the FUCK up, Jean. This is not— no. This is non-negotiable. Send 60 people to bleed on our doorstep, that's— but we are not sending— no. You lived here. I LET you live here, out of fucking OBLIGATION, and you REPAY me— you fucking repay us with—"

He's going purple. Eloise, sitting still, reaches up and tugs his sleeve hard. "Monty! How about we—"

He shoves her hand off, but the air goes out of him, and he collapses back into his seat. His spooky arm is churning. "Geez," Ramsey says.

"Ms. Ramsey, there's no issue. I and 7 of my men—" Lucky pauses. "—or women— will volunteer for your 'Game.' I assure you, we are fighting fit and will provide as much spectacle as desired. I assume this is acceptable?"

"Don't offer that. Don't throw your people into the grinder, Lucky. There is no reason to—"

"The Court brings peace and order to the ocean, Mr. Gewecke. With blood if necessary. Ours or theirs. Is this acceptable, Ms. Ramsey?"

"Just 'Ramsey's fine, honest! And... eh... I don't know. Eight Courtiers is a whole lot. And we already had a lot of Courtiers in, right at the start, and there's still a few around. I'm not sure it'd be..."

"Ms. Ramsey," Lucky says stolidly, "are you an honorable woman? You suggested there were eight open slots. I am providing eight willing, capable volunteers."

(2/5?)

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"I'll take four." She waves her hand. "Half! Compromise! How's that? But I really, really don't need eight. You can round up the other four, you bunch. Get 'em from Camp, okay? The lot in town sit around too much."

Silence. You've never seen Eloise talk so little. Monty chews his lip. "Or what?"

"Or I'll pick! You probably don't want me picking. Might get a couple extra by mistake." Ramsey winks. "Look, I'll give you a couple hours, but we're starting tonight. Don't be late! Any other questions?"

"Am I a viable candidate?" Monty says.

"You? Are you kidding? You're the most viable! Geez, I'd love to see you! Finally, loosening your belt, breaking out the good old—"

"I volunteer. That's three remaining." He looks at you.

"I volunteer," you say. You were sort of waiting for a good time to say that— it's obvious that you need to. You can't win if you don't play, and you're going to win. According to fate, and stuff. "Um, I really ought to count for all the slots, because I—"

"Nope!" Ramsey's perpetual grin has turned sharkish. "Love to have you, but nope. Two left. You have ideas?"

"We'll discuss it," Monty says, "without you."

"Suit yourself, suit yourself. Weeelll... that was about it! Wanted to catch you before it all starts, fill you in. Anything remaining?"

She is met with four stares. "Great! See you later, then! Especially some of you!" She points, thumb and finger out, then walks backward— walks through the door and out of sight.

Monty buries his head in his hands. Eloise rubs his back silently. Lucky raps his fingers, then stands. "Ms. Fawkins."

"Huh?"

"You will kill that woman?"

"Yeah," you say. "Yeah. Lots."

"Good. And afterward, you will restore the dead— any who died for a noble cause— to life?"

You frown. "I— um— maybe."

"Maybe?"

"If I—" Can you? Will you? Will there be enough of you to care? "If I'm able. It's not like I can do it yet."

"Of course." He dips his head, then gathers his notes. "I think this conversation has reached its natural end. I will be off to gather my three. I suppose you will be doing similar."

Monty says nothing. "Yes," Eloise says.

"Good luck, then, Mr. Gewecke, Ms. Crenshaw, Ms. Fawkins. I'm certain you can find your own way out."

Lucky leaves. Monty returns his face to his hands. "Charlotte," Eloise says. "Do you think— I shouldn't even be asking. Sorry."

"Why?" you say. "Because it's above my paygrade?"

She laughs dryly. "Kid, you have the highest paygrade west of the Edge. None of this is fair, but especially not to you. Still, I— you can say no. Could you ask around for volunteers? From Camp? People who'd risk their necks..."

"Sure," you say. "It's— I can hand-select my retainers that way. They won't have to die."

"Won't they? I got the impression the winner wins 'cause everyone else is..." She presses her lips together.

(3/4?)

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"In the rules, probably. But I break stupid rules all the time! I'll make Jean Ramsey face me! Or whatever. So don't worry about it, alright? Don't worry about it, Monty. You need to be thinking positive. I'll be off to recruit some excellent volunteers, and—" You tilt your head. "—you'll be coming with, or—?"

"I think we might be here for a sec. If Lucky kicks us out, I think... we'll be at the Nothing. Alongside everybody within a mile, I'm sure, but Jacques can do us special. If you run into problems, find Madrigal, okay? She'll be... sober, mainly. Responsible. You know."

"Okay," you say. "Thanks."

"Wish I could do more. Boy oh boy, do I wish I could— story of my life, Charlotte. You don't even know. Monty, say bye! She's leaving!"

Monty lifts his head a little. "I— I'm sorry. Good luck, Charlotte. I'll see you soon."

Soon! But you have one last tour of camp ahead of you, first.


———————

You need to recruit TWO volunteers to participate in Jean Ramsey's murder Game, lest she forcibly enlist whoever she wants. These volunteers could get killed. (Their fate is not predetermined.) You can think of some immediate viable options, but there could be others. What do you do?
.

>[A1] Recruit GIL. He's your retainer (and friend). He'll do practically anything you ask of him. Plus, between the goo and the beetles, you think he's sort of, um, unkillable? Or very, very difficult to permanently kill? And when you win this by surviving, that's nothing to sneeze at.

>[A2] Don't recruit GIL. He'll do this for you, but he won't want to, and he could be more useful for other things if he's not constantly under attack.
.
.
.
>[B1] Recruit FAKE ELLERY. Okay, he's annoying. Okay, he's physically unimpressive. But listen— listen. His sole purpose is to die and come back to life like nothing happened. If he dies in the Game, he'll come back to life a couple days later like nothing happened. He is the *ultimate* warm body— and, when you know you'll win, stopping someone real from dying is all the use he needs.

>[B2] Don't recruit FAKE ELLERY. You have no practical Game-related reason not to. It's just that... he's Ellery. Isn't he? So if you showed him the Recharlottizater, he could have actual insights. He could have improvements. And he can't have any of those if he dies in the Game, so. So. (Choosing this option will slightly increase the odds of the Recharlottizater surviving the Wyrm.)

>[C] Recruit SOMEBODY ELSE. It's okay if they're not exactly from Camp, as long as they're nearby enough. Ramsey has been gone for long enough that she won't know the difference. (Pick 0, 1, or 2 of these options, depending on how many [1]s you voted for. Remember, you need two volunteers.)
>>[1] Recruit EARL. He has a storied history of bashing people's heads in, and that's before he turns into a giant horrifying sharkman. He's good at positive thinking, and he likes you a lot— he'll volunteer if you ask him, no problem.
>>[2] Recruit PAT. Her body is made of goo, so, like Gil, she'll be very difficult to kill. And she has the stomach to watch people die, even if she's only so-so in combat herself. If you tell her that Jean Ramsey is the Management-backed candidate, you're sure she'll be game.
>>[3] Recruit HENRY. He might be an old dog, but boy, he has a lot of tricks. He's had plenty of blood on his hands. And you think he'd go to considerable lengths to protect his favorite 'niece.'
.

>>[LOCKED] You're not bringing Claudia into a murder competition. She might think it sounded fun to volunteer for, but it'd traumatize her, and she'd be immediately worse than useless. Come on.
>>[LOCKED] Eloise has an ordinary human body and zero combat prowess, placing her at risk of immediate death. You suspect she'd sensibly decline to volunteer unless nobody else at all would do it.
>>[LOCKED] Madrigal has the fighting spirit to participate— but both Monty and Eloise would veto it. *Somebody* has to lead Camp if something happens to Monty, and Eloise really, really doesn't want it to be her.
>>[LOCKED] You don't have a good enough relationship with Branwen to ask for her participation in a murder competition.
>>[LOCKED] You don't have a good enough relationship with Arledge to ask for his participation in a murder competition.

>Other obvious locks: Richard is inside your head. Teddy is inside Gil's head. Real Ellery is inside a hivemind. Annie is a worm. Horse Face has vanished. You've never met Anthea in real life (and she'd probably also be traumatized).

>>6284334
>Her dominance is asserted.
Oh god Charlie sisters we're so cooked

>A1
>B2
>C2
She can just fake dying with her goo body and then watch us clean up

Too bad we can't pull in Horse Face

>A2
>B1
>C1
Even if Gil can't die, it would be good to keep your capable retainer on the sidelines. Especially if you aren't cheating in the game but outside it :)

Otherwise Ellery dies all the time and having Earl helps the offensive.

>>6284339
>[A1] Recruit GIL. He's your retainer (and friend). He'll do practically anything you ask of him. Plus, between the goo and the beetles, you think he's sort of, um, unkillable? Or very, very difficult to permanently kill? And when you win this by surviving, that's nothing to sneeze at
[C] Recruit SOMEBODY ELSE. It's okay if they're not exactly from Camp, as long as they're nearby enough. Ramsey has been gone for long enough that she won't know the difference. (Pick 0, 1, or 2 of these options, depending on how many [1]s you voted for. Remember, you need two volunteers.)
>[1] Recruit EARL. He has a storied history of bashing people's heads in, and that's before he turns into a giant horrifying sharkman. He's good at positive thinking, and he likes you a lot— he'll volunteer if you ask him, no problem.

Alas, my premonition here >>6283686 has come true: no update tonight, and likely no update tomorrow, either. I'll aim for Tuesday. Vote will remain open until then.

>>6284339
>>A1
>>B2
>>C2

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>6284469
>>6284699
>>6284980
>[A1]

>>6284579
>[B1]

>>6284579
>>6284699
>[C1]

>>6284980
>>6284469
>[C2]

Flipping for the [C]s.

>>6285974
>Gil, Earl

You got it. Back and writing.

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>Girl squad (Gil + Earl)

"Gil!"

You had to ask a couple people if they'd seen your loyal retainer— he wasn't in his tent, and he couldn't be in Horse Face's company, given Horse Face vanished and hopefully died. Instead, Gil was out on the edge of camp, arms crossed, staring out at the shadow barrier in the distance.

It would've been funny if you snuck up on him, but you couldn't contain yourself, so he turns before you reach him. "Oh, hi. How was the meeting? Did Lucky notice the...?" He waves his hand above his head.

"Nope! My aura of— of unnoticing was too powerful. I think Jean Ramsey found out about the horns, though. Um, Jean Ramsey was there."

"The— the Jean Ramsey?"

"Yeah! She just showed up! But she didn't kill anybody, and I couldn't— I wasn't really ready to duel her— so she walked out! But I volunteered for her murder competition, and you will, too, as my retainer. All her retainers are in it."

Gil has, after a long couple months of knowing you, learned to control his reactions. He takes a couple moments to respond. "I-I-I don't know if I'm all that good at... I-I mean, outside a manse, I..."

"Doesn't matter! I can do the murdering for both of us. I mean, the— the righteous— the slayings, Gil. The righteous slayings of evildoers. All you need to do is help me and not die! You're great at not dying!"

"My special talent," he says dryly.

You place your hands on his shoulders. "Exactly! So don't even worry. You and me, we'll— we'll defeat— we'll do it! We'll save everybody! Okay? Together. I couldn't do it without you."

"Hah. Um. I-I-I-I don't know about that one."

"Gil." Unsatisfied with the shoulders, you squish his face between your palms. "I couldn't do it without you. Okay? What am I supposed to do, make Richard fight?"

"...Can't he appear for real now? He could probably..."

"He can appear! It doesn't make him real. He'd be made of paper, and he— I don't think he's used to fighting outside my body. He's sort of... he sits at a desk all day. But you're getting me off-topic!" You tilt his head toward you. "Now say it. I couldn't do it without—"

"You couldn't do it without me. And Richard, and Henry, and Madrigal, and Monty, and—"

"Oh! Monty's in the murder competition too. You know how he is."

"Jumped out of a tree at me," Gil reminisces.

"Yeah! And— I need one more, actually. Someone who'll participate, and won't die, and who'll be good at killing people. Good at killing is a bonus, actually. I can take care of it if they aren't."

"That's good, because I-I-I-I was going to suggest Ellery? Um, the melty one. I-I-I-I don't think he can die, so..."

"Yes! That's a great idea! He's alive right now, right?" You haven't spoken to him in ages.

"I-I-I saw him yesterday. I-I think he's in a mood? Or that's the impression I... I-I think he's mainly been in his tent."

(1/3)

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"Okay. Thanks!" You realize that you're still holding his face, delicately remove your hands, and steal a brief hug— then set off before Gil can process.

—————

"You're on the floor," you observe.

Fake Ellery is lying flat in the middle of the floor of his tent. When you stuck your head in, you thought he was dead, but then he rolled over. "Uh-huh."

"Are you drunk? Or... have you been cursed by a magyckal artifact?" If he's drunk, you should probably come back later. It's not very heroic to coerce him if he's drunk. If he's cursed— "If you're cursed, it's okay, depending on the curse. Maybe we can use it against the evildoers?"

"I'm not drunk," Fake Ellery says. He sounds disappointed.

"You're on the—"

"Maybe I like the floor, huh? I don't have fucking anything else to do. You have horns."

He barely sounds surprised. Maybe he's had some before— it is Ellery. You touch your scalp. "Um, no I— why don't I come in? [OPEN]."

The door tie, knotted something on the order of eight times, untwists itself. You push inside and stand over Fake Ellery. "The tail's new, right?" he says.

"W— what tail?" Damnit! Your aura of unnoticing must've worn off! Or Ellery is being Ellery. "If I did have a tail, it would be new, though. Yes. Are you planning to get off the floor?"

It really emphasizes his horrible gangliness, him being sprawled like that. "No. Are you here to ask me to join the Game?"

"Um..." There's no way he was spying on you and Gil. Zero way. "...Why would you say so?"

"Well, it's what I'm good for, isn't it? I— I— exist to be a stand-in. You know. A useful fucking idiot. Apparently, if I die, it'll feel great. Isn't that great, Lottie? Super nice of me to think of that."

You suck your lip in. "When did you find out you weren't real?"

"Bad question. The question is, how many times have I found out? I've been reading these notes." He rakes his hand through the crumpled paper surrounding him. "Maybe a dozen times? Two dozen? Anyways, sure. When do I go get killed? The flyer wasn't clear."

"The flyer?"

Without sitting up, he plucks up an uncrumpled sheet of paper and holds it above his head. You bend to take it. Jean Ramsey's face and— and Crown beam up from it. Disgusting! The flyer contains no new information, though, just a notification of the Game's imminent start, a brief summary, and a call for volunteers. It's all fancy and decorated and in color, including the photograph of Jean Ramsey. Satellite magyck? Whatever. You crumple the flyer for effect, then clear your throat. "Ahem. I— I don't— I wasn't even here to recruit you, so you know. That would be stupid!"

(2/3)

"I don't think so," Ellery says, "but okay."

"No! It would be!" You think about Fake Ellery in Tom's Cave, hauling your rucksack, nearly eaten by alligators. You wanted him eaten by alligators. You were a little sad when he wasn't. But that was then, when you were doing everything wrong, when you weren't a heroine at all. Heroines don't take advantage of people like that. "If you have to know, I came to— to, um— to— wait, did you find out you weren't real by meeting Real Ellery? I mean, Ellery, the real one? Inside—"

"Uh-huh. I fucking suck, by the way."

"At least he didn't shoot you this time," you say reflectively. (Ellery's eyebrows furrow.) "Anyways! That doesn't matter. Actually, it— it— wait, weren't you and him working on the Recharlottizator?" A-ha! "Yes! I came to interrupt your embarrassing sulking, Ellery, with a task. The Recharlottizer— that's what I'm calling my duplicator device— works. So that's great. But if the Wyrm destroys it, I might die, which is not great, so I'm thinking, if you could sort of... Wyrmproof it? With your... I don't know, your Elleryness? You're good at figuring things out on the fly."

He rests his arm over his forehead. "That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said about me."

"That can't be true. But yes! It's settled!" You clap your hands. "You'll do this for me. And you can't say no, because you were lying on the floor like an idiot doing nothing. Does Madrigal know you're lying on the floor?"

"We're not talking about Maddie," Ellery says dourly.

"Okay! I'll tell her, and then she'll encourage you to do something productive. Like helping me out. Win-win, basically. Here's the remote for it." You reach into your coat and drop it onto his chest. "If you need to work on the actual machine, you might need to go back to Headspace, sorry. But I'm sure you'll figure something out! Thank you!"

You leave before he can object. You're good at this leaving thing! Of course, now you need a new second volunteer. Ellery's out. El...oise? No. If she was volunteering, she would've done it when Jean Ramsey was there. E...arl? Hey! That's more like it. He's killed people before. In his awful monster form, he seems tough to hurt. And he's nice, and he wouldn't betray you, you're positive. What could Jean Ramsey offer him? You can do everything she does, except better and less evil.

The problem is, Earl lives a day's hike from here. You could take the Headspace shortcut, but that's still hours out of your day. Should you just use gulfweed? But maybe you want to be out in the Fen?

Wat do?

>Choices in the morning! (But if you have an idea of what you want to accomplish in the ~half day before it's Game time, feel free to share.)

>>6286037
Wow, fake Ellery knows he’s fake and hasn’t killed himself yet? Congrats on that.

Definitely use gulfweed for Earl, the utility has gone way down since we’ve become too Heraldy to use it to contact the full Herald

Not sure about what to do with the time
Maybe help out around camp, get people warned and ready for the death game that is inevitably coming?

>>6286037
Thanks everyone for your patience.

>[1] Take the Headspace shortcut and ask Earl in person. You feel weird about convincing somebody to risk their life without even bothering to see them. Then, while you're there... (Pick one.)

>>[A] Speak with the Headspace survivors. If things get dicey outside, the remnants of Headspace could provide a safe haven for bystanders... provided you warn the people living there, first. You already unpleasantly surprised them once. [Unlock ~reasonably Ramsey-proof location to hide people in.]

>>[B] Demonstrate your full Heraldy prowess to Earl. Maybe shake off the red stuff rust while you're there. You probably shouldn't be turning into giant lizards without sufficient practice, given... um... prior experiences. [Pick your upgraded Lizard Forme. Significantly cut the risk of losing control of your Lizard Forme.]

>>[C] Drop in on Real Ellery, let him know that you got Fake Ellery working on the Recharlottizator, and badger him into working extra hard on it, even though he claimed to be finished. You need the Wyrm not to explode it, Ellery! This is important! [Slightly increase the odds of the Recharlottizator surviving the Wyrm.]

>>[D] Write-in. (Subject to tweaking or veto.)
.
.
.
>[2] Contact Earl via gulfweed. Time is short. Then, in camp... (Pick two.)

>>[A] You've been spending some time with Annie after resurrecting her, but not nearly enough. You should get her excited for all the evildoers she's about to swallow whole! [Buff to Annie.]

>>[B] Spend time making sure everybody is informed and prepared for the Game and its fallout. You're sure Madrigal has been busy doing just that, but is she better at informing than you? No! Do it anyways. [Reduction of potential collateral damage.]

>>[C] Pat has defrosted after you got her back into Spelunker's Associated. Still, you weren't expecting her to have a gift for you... [Mystery box. Guaranteed to be something positive.]

>>[D] If Ramsey is in town, all of her evil lackies must be around here somewhere, right? You've already heard a lot about some of them from Eloise and Lucky, but see if you can investigate and learn a little more before you have to kill them. [Gain 2 INFO. INFO can be spent for bonuses during the Game or while fighting Jean Ramsey.]

>>[E] Head over to the Fen and dig a big hole with your Earth Powers. Then use your Assorted Magycks to disguise it so evildoers will fall down the hole and break their necks! This is the best possible use of your time. [Add small chance for other Game contestants to fall down your hole and be automatically eliminated.]

>>[F] Write-in. (Subject to tweaking or veto.)
.
.
>>6286120
>Wow, fake Ellery knows he’s fake and hasn’t killed himself yet? Congrats on that.
It didn't end up making it into the update, but Real Ellery did some tinkering to curb the suicide "programming." Of course, it doesn't necessarily follow that Fake Ellery is okay about the whole thing...

>>6286256
>1B
>2B
>2E

>>6286315
Alas, anon, you can't both speak to Earl in person and contact him with gulfweed. Please pick either one [1] *or* two [2]s.

>>6286256
>2B, C
WOAH MYSTERY BOX
From Pat even, double mystery

>>6286256
>>6286372
+1 to this. Gotta go with the mystery box

>>6286327
>>6286256
Okay, I'll switch to 2B and 2C

>>6286256
>>[1B] Demonstrate your full Heraldy prowess to Earl. Maybe shake off the red stuff rust while you're there. You probably shouldn't be turning into giant lizards without sufficient practice, given... um... prior experiences. [Pick your upgraded Lizard Forme. Significantly cut the risk of losing control of your Lizard Forme.]

>>[C] Pat has defrosted after you got her back into Spelunker's Associated. Still, you weren't expecting her to have a gift for you... [Mystery box. Guaranteed to be something positive.]

>>[A] You've been spending some time with Annie after resurrecting her, but not nearly enough. You should get her excited for all the evildoers she's about to swallow whole! [Buff to Annie.]

As much as I would love 1C,

> 2C
> 2D

We love our mystery boxes and I think info would be more useful than a hole. Granted I think the collateral reduxion wins out.

>>6286443
>>6286441
>>6286372
>[2B, 2C]

>>6286499
>[2C, 2D]

MYSTERY BOX it is! Oh, and the other thing. Writing (we'll see how much I get done, I was mindbroken by Civ 5 sorry)

>>6286475
Anon, please see >>6286327. (You can always tell if options are mutually exclusive based on the way they're labeled. [1X] and [2X] are mutually exclusive; [AX] and [BX] are pick one from each category.) Because there's a clear majority this vote wouldn't affect, it doesn't matter, but keep an eye out next time

>we'll see how much I get done
Not much-- sorry folks. But I am pretty close to taking Byzantium's capital... :^)

Tomorrow isn't a travel day, so hopefully I'll be in a more productive mindset. Have a good night!

>>6286499
>reduxion
...

Back and writing.

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>MYSTERY BOX and friends

No, you should use gulfweed. What if Jean Ramsey, vile and traitorous, decides to start early? You'd be away in the Fen, powerless to stop her!

Henry said gulfweed was kind of rare, but you don't need much, and you don't have much time to use it otherwise. It's a good thing you practiced with it back in Headspace and Satellite, so the dizzy numbing sensation is old hat, and you make contact with Earl without fuss.

"...Hon?"

Earl's a little startled— you didn't exactly get a chance to warn him— but acclimates quickly. (You guess he does manse stuff on a regular basis.) When you try to fill him in about the Jean Ramsey situation, he waves a hand. "Already got the news. If she's heading for Hellsbells, I'll be giving her a warm welcome! Haw! You think she will?"

"Um..."

No, you don't think she will, but you need Earl anyways. You feel bad for asking, a little, since he'd probably be out of harm's way without you, but you have to. So you do. "Volunteers?!" Earl says, and "What a bitch! No offense," and, when you lock your mind-hands together and say it: "What? Me? You think she'll let me?"

"She's been gone for months. I— I don't think she has to know you're not living at camp."

"Well, if you're sure... are you paying me? 'Cause I normally get paid to bash people's faces in."

You blink. "I— I'm sure I can— I bet Monty would be happy to pay you, or—" Or when you're God you can make a lot of chit appear? You don't want to say that.

"Haw! Your face! Naw, it'd be an honor. I get paid to do some bashing, but, kid, the kind of people who pay..." Earl scratches his cheek. "Same kind of stock as your Ramsey, seems like. Getting to be on the good side, once in my life— payment enough."

For once in his life. "Um, I should say— you could die. You might die. There's going to be a lot of people trying to kill you, and—"

"What's new! You think the juice is allowed? Or are they strict about—"

"I really doubt they're strict." If Jean Ramsey has been using the Crown on people. "I'm sure it's okay if you need to turn into a— you know. And I'll be helping, even if there's probably rules against that. So you also might not die. I just want to make sure you're okay with—"

"Kid, in my line of work, you don't worry about that stuff. You start worrying, you stop making money, okay? Say, would this tourney happen to have a cash prize?"

"Um, I think you get a— a wish. You could wish for money. But you won't get it, since I'm going to win... sorry."

"Hey, better you than me! No skin off my back. Speaking of backs..."

Earl wants to see your tail. You show it off, hoping he won't ask to touch— he doesn't (it's imaginary, so maybe he can't), but does ooh and ahh rapturously. He wants to know if you can swish it, and how hard. Pretty hard, it turns out. "Oho! You know what?"

"...What?"

(1/6?)

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"I betcha you could smack someone in the nuts with that! Haw-haw!"

He likes your horns too, though they remind him: "Say. Any more progress on that big ol' lizard of yours?"

———

You danced around that question with Earl, he dropped the subject, and you dropped the connection, though not before he promised to head out to Camp ASAP. The truth is, you haven't turned into a real-life lizard one single time since you did it with Arledge. Satellite doesn't count. You've had a lot of things on your plate, and, with the tail situation, you feel plenty lizardy without bringing the red stuff into it.

Nevertheless, it's possible a situation might arise where more completely becoming a large lizard would be useful. And if becoming a large lizard would be useful, what about a really large lizard? How large can the lizard get? Richard?

«The Herald is a perfectly reasonable size.»

Yeah, he'd think that: she's not much bigger than agents are, given that agents are freakishly tall. A person doesn't need so much neck. But that's obviously not what you meant, Richard. You mean your Lizard Forme. How do you make your Lizard Forme bigger? Could you be able to swallow Jean Ramsey whole?

«I would think you'd take a cautionary tale from the fate of your worm.»
«But regardless. I would imagine you'd want to increase the concentration of Wyrm's blood in your system. The Wyrm is, after all, large. You may note that this comes with side effects.»

Like getting possessed and trying to kill people?

«Indeed.»

Okay, but you won't do that, because you're a famous lizard heroine. Also regualar heroine. Could he just tell you? You got some from drinking from an evil pool of water, but those don't grow on trees. You got some— you got it in the first place by murdering him. Hmm. Hmm.

«Unfortunately, you'll need to murder me after regaining the Crown, not before.»
«What's more, it was not the murder that did it. Such things are commonplace. It was the betrayal. The Wyrm feasts on betrayal. Making me your father was one betrayal; killing your father another, even if he was me.»
«It should be obvious what you need to do.»

...Betray someone else? (Then perform a gross mud-eating ritual?) No! No way! That's not heroic at all!

«You asked.»

Also, you thought he didn't know anything about Wyrm rituals! Back then, he claimed—

«I don't know all that much. What I did know, I didn't want planted in your head. For obvious reasons.»

Hmph. Well, serves him right for hiding stuff from you. Anyhow, you won't— you probably won't— you'll save it for a terrible emergency, okay? You can emergency-betray somebody, then turn into God and fix it, so they won't be mad. Or dead. But you probably won't even need to do that, and you'll have to be satisfied with your merely large lizard.

(2/6?)

But enough of rumination. You're fairly sure there's a few short hours between here and Ramsey, and you ought to do something productive with it. Hmm. You'll feel a lot better participating in the Game if only evildoers die in it, but Lucky and Monty and everybody seemed awfully concerned about injuries to bystanders, and you suspect Ramsey will be, er, entirely unconcerned. Maybe you can go make sure everybody's safe? Or as safe as they can be? Sounds productive to you!

You venture forth, but, being on the outskirts of camp, find nobody to save. Damnit. There's commotion in the distance, though, which you trace to the camp's center— presently under construction. Madrigal is out and about, waving her arms at people. She waves her arms at you when she spots you. "Charlotte! Hi! How'd the meeting go? Monty up and vanished, so I hope he—"

"I think he's at the Better Than Nothing," you say. "With Eloise."

"What? You're fucking kidding. Was Lucky that much of a bastard?"

"No. Um, Jean Ramsey showed up."

"Fuck! You're kidding! Did you get a swing in?"

You briefly explain the situation. Madrigal looks disappointed when she discovers you did not, in fact, get a swing in. "Better luck next time, huh? Sorry I couldn't make it, but Monty and I figured someone had to handle—"

The construction, which seems to involve hauling entire tents (and their contents) out of the way, digging trenches, and building makeshift fences around a wide, soon-to-be-empty circle. "There's no way those fucking guys will stay out of here," Madrigal explains. "So, we figured, better to give them an obvious spot to kill each other in, and maybe they'll leave the tents alone. Don't know if it'll work, but sitting around with our thumbs up our asses is worse, so. Have you seen the Gilman, by the way? I thought he'd be on this like a fly on shit— Bran said he was a kickass hauler. But he hasn't been around."

"Um, last I saw him, he was..." You squint. "...brooding? But that wasn't that long ago. I can probably get him."

"Great! You can help too, if you want. No pressure. I know you have obligations. But many hands make light work, and all that, and Pat's over there already."

"Oh?" So she is. "...Cool?"

"Fuck, I forgot— it's a secret! Don't worry about Pat! A good secret. I've said too much. Get Gil, and he can help haul shit, okay?"

You'd rather corner Pat and ask what the secret is, but you obey. Gil, somehow equally unaware of the construction (how much time is he spending in his manse?!), is grateful to have something real to do. And once he's set up, do you decline to help? No! This is heroism! It counts.

(3/6?)

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Also, more importantly, you can lift really heavy things, and people goggle at you for it. Madrigal assesses somebody's wardrobe— "Think we can get two on this one?"— but you step in, suck in your breath, and lift it yourself. You have to lean back a lot to handle it, but your tail aids significantly with balance, and you get it to its destination without falling or dropping it or anything. You and Madrigal are equally excited about this, and soon she has you hauling all the heaviest furniture. You don't even get tired! Actually, that's a lie. You get somewhat tired. Not as much as you could be, and you could probably keep going— but when you see Pat taking a breather, you opt to take one too.

You sidle up next to her, and she glances over. "Hi, Charlotte."

"Are you actually tired?" you say. "I thought goo didn't—"

"Not physically." She folds her arms. "I didn't get much sleep. Still need that, sorry to say."

Gil still sleeps, even as beetles. It makes sense. "Why? Were you worried about the Jean Ramsey thing? Because I have that handled. Or... oh!" You wiggle your shoulders. "Were you up late working on a secret? For me?"

"..." Her fingers clench around her arms. "...Don't tell me mind-reading is one of your things."

"Not really. You'd know if I was trying. Madrigal told me. And don't try to deny it!"

"Wow. Thought she had tighter lips than that." Pat looks away. "I've been working on something. I wasn't sure when would be a good time to—"

"Now!"

"Not like you'll leave me alone." Pat jerks her head toward the relocated tents. "It's with my stuff. C'mon."

When you get to her tent, you're not sure what you're looking at. Goo, definitely, in a bunch of blobby shapes. More greyish than usual. You're not sure what to say that wouldn't be really mean, so you try not to say anything.

"Hm. Doesn't like to hold its shape. Still." Pat picks up a smaller blob, thwacks it a couple times against the wall, and tosses it to you. "Put your hand in it."

"...Will my hand dissolve?"

"No. I'm not telling you what it does, so if it doesn't work, you won't get pissed. Don't say you won't get pissed, Charlotte. Hand, in."

You press your lips together, but squish your hand into the goo. "Spread your fingers," Pat instructs: after spreading them, the goo flows between your knuckles, enveloping your hand.

You hold up your unwieldy goo-glove. "Is that it?"

Pat shakes her head sharply. "It's supposed to... hold it out. Out, please. Yeah." She holds your wrist steady, then, with a predatorial motion, jabs through the "glove" into the palm of your hand. "Ow!" you say. She had a needle.

The assault kept you distracted: you didn't register the "glove" constricting and solidifying around you. You're glaring daggers at Pat when she taps your wrist. "Look."

(4/6?)

Your hand is not coated with goo. You hand is covered by a shiny metallic gauntlet. Bewildered, you tap your fingers together. They clack. "Touch the rest of it," Pat says, "so it gets the right idea."

The other blobs solidify into cuirass, pauldron, vambrace, gorget— all those funny book-words, ones you'd never thought you'd use— and so on, until you're staring at a disassembled set of armor. You don't know what to say. "For me?"

"Nope. Just for kicks. I thought I could dress the alligators in it."

"Alligators wouldn't fit," you say suspiciously. "And Madrigal basically said the secret was for—"

"Yes, it's for you! Gods! I mean, it's not like I—" Pat picks up the other gauntlet, swings it around. "I was experimenting. You know goo can do clothes? It likes imitating people better, but people wear clothes. I thought I could remove the people from the equation. Had some success. Then I thought— way back when— in that manse, you know. It had that little shop. Sold all our stolen stuff, Ellery's corpse, whatever. And—"

"That was the manse you kidnapped Madrigal in," you clarify.

"For gods' sake, Charlotte, can we move past that? I'm trying to—" She thumps the gauntlet against her leg. "Yes, it was that one. The point was, there was a load of stuff in there. There was a suit of armor. I saw the way you looked at it. But you never bought it, because you bailed out Ellery's stupid ass, right?"

Memories are resurfacing. "...Yeah..."

"Yeah. So I didn't forget. So I was experimenting with the clothes thing, and I wanted to know if it could do materials beyond fabric, and I remembered— and I knew you were going to be fighting people. With your sword, or whatever you do. That's great, but you don't have body protection at all. I know offense is the best defense, but one stray move—"

"I have scales," you say defensively.

"You have..." Pat's eyes flick down you. "Okay. Fuck me, I guess. The point is, I thought that, so this is armor, or whatever. It's still goo, but it's decent at— here. Palm out." She waits until you comply. "When it receives narrowly concentrated force, like a stabbing, it does a good job at staying rigid. When it receives broadly concentrated force, like a clubbing, it collapses and absorbs the force. Watch."

She shows you her needle, then jabs at the gauntlet. As promised, it tings and bounces away. Then she balls up her fist and punches, and your palm gets sticky with goo.

You're taken aback. "Um, that's... useful."

"Yeah. Well, that's it. Yours." Pat waves her arm over the sprawl of armor. "It should mold to your body, so don't worry about fit. If it doesn't, tell me. If you don't like it, don't use it. Anything else, whatever. Ask."

Only one question emerges. "What about my tail?"

"Your..." (You turn 90 degrees.) "You did not always have that. Piss off."

"Not always," you say. "But all today, I—"

(5/6?)

"This is garbage." Pat crouches and, without asking, reaches out to palpate your tail's underside. "What the hell. Of course you have a—"

"I need armor for it," you clarify. "It has scales, but I don't think they'd stand up to—"

"Sure, Charlotte. I probably have time to make an extra piece for your tail. Sure." She stands. "Is that it? Is that all the surprises? That's all of mine."

"I can open my mouth really wide," you say helpfully. "But I'll only do it if you want to see."

"Nope."

"Oh." You're more deflated than you expected. "Maybe you'll see later. Do I just take all this?"

"You could wear it out. I don't care. Apparently it won't be heavy for you."

"It won't!" You reinflate slightly. "Well, I guess I'll... er..."

Are you forgetting something? Pat's looking at you funny. You feel funny when you look back at her. Definitely forgetting something. Um...

(Pick one.)
>[A1] Say thank you properly like a nice young lady. You owe her that.
>[A2] Say thank you effusively. If Gil or somebody gave you this, you'd be cheering— you're thrown off because it's Pat, but you shouldn't let that affect your reaction! This was really nice of her!
>[A3] Say thanks off-handedly and leave. If she doesn't want to make a big deal about it, you sure won't.
>[A4] Write-in.

(The [B]s are optional. Pick any.)
>[B1] Apologize for destroying Namway. You know it really upset her. (Even if it was probably for the best.)
>[B2] Tell her it was actually Richard who destroyed Namway. You were unconscious at the time. (Actually true.)
>[B3] Apologize for getting her in hot water with Management. You didn't mean to lie about getting her a snake. You just didn't know it'd be so challenging. (Also actually true.)
>[B4] Express condolences for Lester's death. (Even if he was a total prick. You don't need to say that part.)
>[B5] Tell her you can't entirely make promises, but you might be able to bring Lester back to life, once you're God. (You can probably use your God powers to make him not a total prick. You don't need to say that part either.)
>[B6] Write-in.

>>6287077
>A2
We did want that armor! This is awesome! Very thoughtful of her.

>B3,5
We would have brought him back anyway just to be clear, or at least tried. Daddy is still front of the line, sorry.

>>6287077
>A2
>B3, B5

>>6287167
>>6287435
>[A2], [B3], [B5]

Neat. Writing.

>Magic words

«Charlie, you haven't—»

Oh!! You haven't thanked her!! You should probably— you should do that. It's only polite. And even if you didn't exactly need armor, given the scales and your fated winningness and stuff, it's still nice of her to go to all the trouble. You had no idea she noticed the armor in there, let alone remembered. You didn't even remember.

"...I'll say... thank you. For your nice present. I like it. I think it will be useful for not dying, and for, um, looking cool. So, yeah."

Pat watches you pick up the cuirass and start stacking armor pieces in it. "Whatever. No skin off my back."

"Well... surely it was at least a little..." You said thank you, and you still feel funny. When you're God, will you understand everything all the time? "You were staying up late for it. And I didn't even know about it, so it's not like I was making you do it. Was Madrigal making you do it?"

"No."

"So you didn't have to— I mean— you don't even like me." Saying that improves the feeling a little. "I destroyed your business, and I got Management mad at you, and I lied about the snake. Um, I didn't mean to lie. I forget if you know that. But I know that's how it came across... and then Management kidnapped Lester, and he died, and even though I saved your life and blew up Headspace and stuff, it didn't help very much. So I guess I— I'm just confused why you'd—"

"Management killed Lester, not you." Pat, not making eye contact, deposits the other gauntlet on your armor pile. "It's not a big deal, Charlotte."

"But—"

"And they haven't come back, have they? Management."

You're the worst person to ask about current events, but surely Richard would've said something. "...No?"

"Okay, then."

So curt! Should you leave? Does she want you to leave? No! Not until you sort this out, one way or another. "Well, I— I still don't get why, but fine! I am very grateful! This was— really— I haven't worn it all yet, but— this is the nicest thing anybody's given me in a long time, and you must've thought really hard about it, and worked really hard on it, and I won't ask why any more, but I'll use it, okay? I'll use it, and defeat evildoers in it, and— I'll bring Lester back to life! With my powers! If you want that. Not because you did this..." It sounds bad if you say it's because she did this. "...but because it's heroic, and stuff. I mean, I'll try really hard. Alright?"

"You'll bring Lester back to life," Pat says. "With your powers."

Geez, she knows how to try your patience. "Is that not what I literally just said?"

"What powers?"

"My— my divine— my Godly powers. Not yet. I need to get the Crown back. But I'll definitely get it back, so don't worry about that, alright? I promised to bring other people to life already, so it's not new."

"You did."

To yourself, mainly. To your father. "Yeah!"

(1/TBC)

"Well, I wish I could say I was surprised. Can't say that. Uh..." Pat shuts her eyes. "Good luck with all that... I guess."

"I won't need it, but thank you? To— to clarify, you do want Lester back to life?"

"Sure. I mean, I— sure." For claiming not to be surprised, she sure sounds flustered. "Was this all meant to happen?"

"Huh?"

"It was all— was it all set from the beginning? Divinely? Or—"

"I don't know," you say. "Um, like I said, I'm not God yet. Maybe some things were, but I— I don't know if they were supposed to be set, or if it was an accident, or— um— I guess you can believe whatever makes you feel better. I don't know what'd make you feel better."

"I don't either." She rubs her eye. "Enjoy the armor, Charlotte."

"Oh! I will!"

>[TO BE CONTINUED!]

Sorry for the short one, but even if I pushed harder any options attached would inevitably be filler before we launch into the big Game mechanics. I'll try to make more meaningful progress tomorrow.

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>You just lost the...

"And," Pat calls as you slip away, "you're welcome..."

You don't return to furniture-hauling— in fact, you poach Gil away from furniture-hauling. When you instruct him to help you put on the armor, he's reluctant. You glare. "Gilbert!"

"Aw, I-I-I just don't— um— isn't it a lot of touching? I-I-I mean— we're only friends, like you said, and— I-I wouldn't— I know you have feelings about that stuff, and—"

"Yeah? And my feelings are that you should help? I'm not taking my clothing off."

"Oh."

"Did you think I was taking my clothing off? Do you think people go around in armor nude? God! There is absolutely nothing untoward about this. Nothing. Don't you realize, Gilbert, that this is a retainer's main job?"

"First I-I'm hearing about it," he mumbles.

"Because I've never had armor before! But in all the books— this is real, Gil. I'm serious. In every single book, a retainer helps put on armor, and he helps take off armor. Because it's hard to do it yourself! You can't reach! And I know this is goo, so it might be easier, but— I mean— you're goo, so maybe you're even better at it than I'd be. How am I supposed to know? But I'm not going to let you shirk your duty! Understood?"

Your ungrateful and disloyal retainer sighs. "Yeah..."

Hmph. He does help, in the end, handing you bits, and helping you stick them onto your back and neck and other places you can't reach well. Actually, that's a lie. You forgot how flexible Richard made you, and you could've done it all yourself easily, and without having to explain to Gil which of the armor pieces went where. But you like having Gil helping. He won't be able to when you're God, or dead. When you're God.

And when you're done you twirl for him, clanking only a little, and flourish. "So? What do you think?"

Gil chews his lip. "...I-I-I think you look really pretty."

"Huh?"

His eyes widen. "I-I-I-I-I-I mean— I mean, you look pretty— I-I don't— pretty good, and, um—"

"What? Well, of course I look pretty! That's an important component of being a proper young lady. But surely you mean more, er, 'dashing'?" You place your hands on your hips. "Just because... I'm not sure my Aunt Ruby would approve of..."

"Y— yes." He relaxes. "That's what I meant. You look really dashing, Lottie. You look... I-I-I guess... I-I-I-I guess I pictured you in armor already, so I-I knew it was going to suit you. And it does."

"You bet it does." Like Pat promised, it fits you perfectly. "As soon as I get something for my tail, it'll be perfect. You don't need armor, do you? You have goo? And... um... you have a weapon, right? I got you that gun—"

Gil shuts one eye, and his hand spasms and melts and a pistol extrudes from it.

"Great! Then we're set! I guess... I guess we should see if Monty's drunk? I hope he's not drunk."

"You can use your God powers to sober him up," Gil says, to an unclear degree of seriousness.

"Yes! Excellent idea!"

—

(1/loads)

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Monty is not drunk, though he might be tipsy— it's hard to distinguish his regular level of agreeableness from an elevated one. He has taken off his usual sweater and is only in an undershirt. He, along with Lucky and a couple Courtiers (you recognize Hatch) and a sweaty Earl (did he run here?), engage you in a last-minute strategy session / pep-talk. Both of these things are mostly for their benefit, not yours, as you're going to win and you're thinking plenty positive. Still, it's nice to know they intend to pull their weight.

There's only a few important take-aways, in your opinion. Lucky wants people to partner off— Monty warns that Jean might frown on collusion, but quiets when Lucky points out that death is the default outcome here. Lucky also swears the Courtiers will be trying to minimize external damage, and will attempt to neutralize the worst offenders. Finally, he wants to know what will happen if the only contestants remaining are allied. Will Ramsey call it off, or will she force a conclusion?

Monty doesn't know, or if he knows, he doesn't want to say. You, however, pledge to negotiate with Ramsey. After all, she doesn't have all the power— you're the one with the Crown-piece she needs, aren't you? And won't it work out? Of course it will.

Of course it will work out. Of course it will work out. You had your crying incident a little while back, got it out of your system, and now you're doing nothing but thinking positive. Even when you (and Gil and everybody) hike out to town, see the enormous crowd of people standing around in it, see the dramatic black gnarled stage plonked directly in front of the general store— did the general store guy approve of that?— see Jean Ramsey, sans Crown, flanked by mask-wearers, atop the stage, stupidly big axe in hand— none of this shakes your confidence. You have a sword, and a suit of armor, and righteousness in your heart. You have a destiny. Is there anything to be afraid of?

Certainly not Jean Ramsey, who, for all the black robes and axe and stage and things, is hardly exuding fearsomeness. When she speaks, her voice is magyckally projected (or maybe her snake is doing it), but she doesn't use it to cow or bellow or monologue evilly. She, um, yuks it up. "Hey, hey, hey!" she says. "Hey! Wow! Big crowd! Excited crowd! It's like you guys are all here for something, huh? How about you tell me what you're here for! ...Nope. Couldn't hear you. TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE HERE FOR!!! YEAH!! Woo-hoo!!"

(2/loads)

And so on. Earl is participating. Lucky is stony. A vein is bulging in Monty's temple. It goes on like that for a while: Ramsey jokes about starting early, jokes about "polishing her axe" (this gets a laugh you don't understand), shouts out people in the crowd she recognizes, back-slaps her masked attendants, gets everyone to yell what they'd use the Crown for, and so on. It'd be easy to get swept up in, except, on the stage, behind Ramsey, is a big banner depicting Ramsey. Wearing your Crown.

Why doesn't she have it now? God, imagine if you could sprint up and lop her head off instantly. All of your problems solved.

«That's likely one reason why.»
«The other reason is that— if it is as full as #301 claims— she could not wear it and stand there. The crowd could not bear the force of the Law. It would be, as they say, a 'killjoy.'»

Ugh. Actually, you're shocked nobody's tried to backstab anybody yet: you're standing in a crowd of either seasoned or would-be murderers. Maybe Ramsey's that magnetic.

Or maybe they're well-trained. When Ramsey finally gets to the important parts, she places a great deal of emphasis on 'sportsmanship.' She has the crowd chant it back to her. "Remember," she says, "we're all here to have fun, okay! And you signed up! So nobody's going to be hiding, escaping, tampering with your tokens, working together, none of that yucky stuff, folks. If I see it, I'll get real ticked, okay? And you all know what happens when I get ticked!" She grins, lifts the axe. "No slipping it past me, either, folks. Those tokens aren't chocolate coins, let me tell ya! Nope! They're hi-tek! So let's all stay on our best behavior, 'kay? Hoy! Bera!"

One of the masked attendants, bulky under their robes, looks toward her.

"You got the tokens for the newbies?"

The attendant lifts a glossy black container. You're sensing a common aesthetic.

"Phenomenal! Okie-dokie! Folks, if this is your first-ever Game, come on up here. Come on up. And I want to hear some cheers, folks? Cheers for the newbies? Last they'll ever hear? Let's go!"

The crowd obliges, and— oh, wow. It's not just you and Gil and everybody. At least 20 others are shuffling out of the crowd. Geez! Did Ramsey do recruiting on her trip here? Did she pull people from town before she came to talk to Monty? You can't see very well from the back, so you can't spot faces. Richard didn't make you tall enough. Hardly taller at all.

«Charlotte, you will be ten feet tall in under a week. Don't be greedy.»

Under a week isn't now, when you need to see over people's stupid heads. Monty folded his arms and didn't move when the call went out, and Lucky didn't either, so you didn't join the line of people until a masked guy popped up and instructed the whole group to venture up.

(3/loads)

Seeing everybody's reticence, Earl volunteers to go first. Ramsey (who obviously doesn't know him), smiles with all her teeth and shakes his hand vigorously and grins and shakes harder when Earl says he was a fan of the Game. Er, the regular one, on the surface. "A fan! I love fans! Wish I could sign something for you, but hey, maybe if you win..." A wink to the crowd. "Now, head or neck?"

The token could go on your forehead, or it could get buried in your neck: two locations that would, even with rapid ocean healing, discourage removal. Earl says head, and makes a joke about his hairline, and Ramsey's laugh sure seems genuine. You're struck by the thought that they'd probably be great friends, if Ramsey wasn't horrible and evil and about to end the world. Oh well.

Lucky gets it in the neck (you overhear Hatch ahead of you wondering if the token can be burnt), and the Courtiers all go, and Gil opts for the neck (can't he definitely remove his? with the goo?), and when Monty goes, Ramsey doesn't give him a choice. She grabs his good arm and raises it. "Hey, folks! Hey! We got a special contestant! Anybody know this handsome man?"

"That's Monty!" somebody shouts. (Maybe Ramsey did recruit from town? Or maybe there's onlookers?) A few more. "Monty!" "What's Monty doing—"

"Really? Nobody recognizes him?" Ramsey pouts, shakes his arm around. "No real fans left? They all died? Damn! Folks, this is my very good friend—"

"We're not friends," Monty says clearly.

"—my very good friend, and practical jokester, Montgomery Gewecke? That Montgomery? All-time record Montgomery? Pioneer of the— geez louise! I know it's been 10 years, folks, and I know the arm's all fucked, but really? If you don't know Montgomery, you should know that he's an extremely talented professional player, and you all better keep a sharp eye on him! I mean, look at these biceps!"

Ramsey palpates the biceps. They're well-developed. You hadn't thought about Monty having muscles before— maybe the sweater prevents you? You'd like to go back to not. Monty, from his expression, appears to agree. "Jean."

"Oh, but he still needs his token! Can't get away without his token!" Ramsey flourishes a token, then presses it into Monty's right cheek, just above his mole. "There we go. Round of applause for Montgomery Gewecke, please? Applause. Yeah! Okay, who's next?"

You. You're last. Ramsey doesn't give a big speech for you, because she's disgustingly evil: she knows you'd like a big speech. She even skips the hand-shaking. All she does is beam at you and ask where you want the token. What even is the token? It's not just metal.

«It could not be more obviously agent technology.»
«Presumably the fruit of the partnership with R&D.»

(4/loads)

He means Management. Great. Ramsey wants to stick a lizard coin in your neck or face: you opt for neck, so it doesn't mar your heroic expressions. Can Richard take it out without killing you?

«Most likely. But there are most likely failsafes for that, if its designers were good.»
«I regret to say that R&D is frequently good.»

High praise, coming from Richard. Maybe you'll take it out after you win? Whatever. You have to lift your chin, so Ramsey can find space above the gorget, but there's a sharp pain and a buzz in your head. Ramsey's face is close to yours. "I'm going to kill you," you inform her.

She snorts and pats your armored shoulder and gestures for an attendant to escort you off. Then she wraps things up. Blah, blah, blah, thanks for waiting, thanks for playing, stay safe (just kidding), remember, the barrier contracts daily, get a move on— really!! Get a move on!! You have—

=THE GAME BEGINS IN: 15 MINUTES=

—you have instructions in your head. Not Richard instructions. How invasive is this token?

«I am investigating. I am estimating 'very.'»

Wonderful. Is Ramsey harvesting your thoughts?

«Not if I have anything to do with it.»

Wonderful. In any case, '15 minutes' has stirred up the crowd. They're largely dispersing. "NO STARTING EARLY!" Ramsey bellows— one guy's knife was to another's throat. "15 MINUTES IS 15 MINUTES! SCATTER!"

Your group hasn't scattered, but you ought to. Lucky's talking to his Courtiers: "The moment of truth, ladies and gentlemen. Let's not lose our nerves."

Earl's talking to Monty: "Boy, that lady put you through the wringer, huh? Bad history?"

And Gil is talking to you. "Lottie?"

"Uh-huh?"

"...I-I-I don't know what I was going to say." He looks down. "I-I'm glad you're here. I'm glad I'm doing this with you."

"Oh," you say. "Me too. It's going to work out just fine, you realize? Just fine."

He half-smiles. "Positive thinking."

"Yes! Positive thinking!"

—————

Below this message is a LARGE WALL OF TEXT EXPLAINING THE RULES. Nobody likes to read these, so I will share the MOST IMPORTANT INFO: we'll be rolling a ton of dice (I might ask for help), and I'll do some calculations to determine what happens with them. All you as a player need to do is pick who to hang out with for the day and what you intend to be doing. Dice will be rolled and fights will commence (if applicable) afterward. If you'd like to apply some strategy to that, read the wall of text, but otherwise skim it and vote.

—————————————————

>Welcome to THE GAME! The Game is a battle royale with 64 participants, including yourself, Gil, Monty, Earl, Lucky, and three Courtiers, but not including Jean Ramsey, who will be watching until the very end. The final survivor of the GAME will face Jean Ramsey in single combat. The final survivor will be you.

>Though your victory in the Game is inevitable, the survival of your friends and acquaintances is not, and neither is the amount of injury, destruction, and death caused by the Game's less-ethical players. Additionally, the more you showcase your abilities during the Game, the more Jean Ramsey will be prepared to deal with them during your Fated Duel. As a result, you will need to balance how rapidly you curbstomp your competition (and keep them from causing trouble) with how much you plan to blindside Ramsey later.

>The Game will be roughly simulated by rolling dice to determine who targets who. Different competitors in the Game have different POWER LEVELS, and, by comparing these POWER LEVELS, we will determine the outcome of each "day" of fighting. Additionally, clashes with a high-enough cumulative POWER LEVEL will cause COLLATERAL DAMAGE, which will be determined through a further roll. More on this in a second.

>If competitors target YOU, you will have the opportunity to choose how to pulverize them. You will also have the opportunity to pursue specific targets or general outcomes-- your target will not be determined by the dice.

>Additionally, every Game day, you can TEAM UP with one participant. (It's not sportsmanlike to team up with all of them!) Your TEAMMATE will 1. be immune to being injured or dying off-screen (because you'll be with them) and 2. will assist with whatever course of action you pursue that day. Unless you figure out how to evade Ramsey's restrictions, you will have to swap TEAMMATES every day.

>Though OOC you don't know details about the other competitors, IC Charlotte likely does, thanks to research from Eloise, Lucky, Monty, and others. To reveal information about the other competitors, you can spend INFO. If you don't spend all your INFO during the Game, you can use it, to a lesser extent, against Jean Ramsey.

>In fact, through all this research, you have already determined the rough breakdown of POWER LEVEL among the competitors. The breakdown is as follows:

Contestants 1 - 3 (3): RAMSEY'S RETAINERS. With her from the start. POWER LEVEL 25.
Contestants 4 - 8 (5): RAMSEY'S INNER CIRCLE. Came a little later, but not much. POWER LEVEL 15.
Contestants 9 - 15 (7): RAMSEY'S OUTER CIRCLE. Retainers of retainers and various hangers-on. POWER LEVEL 8.
Contestants 16 - 19 (4): THREE-TIME WINNERS. Triple-dipped on the Crown. POWER LEVEL 15.
Contestants 20 - 24 (5): TWO-TIME WINNERS. Double-dipped on the Crown. POWER LEVEL 10.
Contestants 25 - 31 (7): ONE-TIME WINNERS. Single-dipped on the Crown. POWER LEVEL 5.
Contestants 32 - 45 (14): VIABLE CONTENDERS. Haven't played the Game yet, but have a fighting chance. POWER LEVEL 3.
Contestants 45 - 56 (12): SCRUBS. Desperate and likely to die. POWER LEVEL 1.
Contestants 57 - 59 (3): COURTIERS. Sworn to protect the seafloor. POWER LEVEL 4.
Contestant 60: EARL. He hasn't done *this* before, but he won't be breaking a sweat. POWER LEVEL 7 while human.
Contestant 61: GIL. With you from the start. POWER LEVEL 5.
Contestant 62: MONTY. He's done this before. POWER LEVEL 12.
Contestant 63: LUCKY. Confident, competent, and fortunate. POWER LEVEL 10.
Contestant 64: YOU. Famous heroine. The Herald of the Bright Epoch. God. POWER LEVEL ???

>Your allies (Lucky, Monty, Earl, Gil, and the Courtiers) have SPECIAL ABILITIES that can trigger depending on their rolls, assuming you aren't TEAMED UP with them. We'll discuss those when we get there.

>It's been a second. After I roll a metric ton of dice, we'll know which contestants are targeting which. Contestants act in OPPOSITE order-- i.e. #64 (you) always move first, and #1 always moves last. (This is a gameplay abstraction and may be fudged in-narrative.)

>If ONE contestant targets another, their POWER LEVELS are compared: if the difference in power level is 5 or above, the lesser contestant DIES and is removed from the initiative order and Game. The victor gains +1 to their POWER LEVEL. If the difference is less than 5, the lesser contestant is INJURED, and loses -1 to their POWER LEVEL. (If their level hits 0, they are dead.) If the POWER LEVELS are exactly matched, both contestants are INJURED but limp away to fight another day.

>If MULTIPLE contestants target one contestant, their POWER LEVELS are added together against their target. For example, one of RAMSEY'S RETAINERS would crush anybody else fighting solo, but can be taken out by 2 THREE-TIME WINNERS, if they both happen to roll the same number. However, fights with COMBINED POWER LEVELS OVER 16 will cause COLLATERAL DAMAGE, as will FIGHTS WITH 4 OR MORE PARTICIPANTS. The table for that will be discussed when we get there.

>And that's it! Scared yet? If you have any clarifying questions, ask and I'll provide.

———————————————

And here is the official vote!

———————————————

First, select ONE ally to temporarily TEAM UP with. You cannot TEAM UP with more than one person, and you cannot stay TEAMED UP with that person for longer than a day, or Jean Ramsey will get annoyed at your poor sportsmanship and murder you (or them). TEAMMATES will hang out with you and help with whatever you select in the [B]s.

>[A1] GIL.
>[A2] MONTY.
>[A3] EARL.
>[A4] LUCKY.
>[A5] A COURTIER.

.
Second, pick one FOCUS for the rest of the day. This is in addition to defending yourself and your TEAMMATE from whatever attacks you receive (though incoming attacks may factor in or interfere with your FOCUS, depending). You currently have 14 INFO.
.
>[B1] You will be HUNTING DOWN one of the most dangerous contestants...
>>[A] ...and you knew all about them from the start. (Spend 3 INFO to know about them already.)
>>[B] ...and you're winging it. All will be fine.

>[B2] You will be WEEDING OUT the contestants who clearly shouldn't be here.

>[B3] You will be MAKING YOURSELF A TARGET and taking out anybody who comes for you.

>[B4] You will be HUNKERING DOWN in Camp and protecting it from harm. (This will annoy Ramsey.)

>[B5] You will be SECRETLY INTERVENING in an ally's fights. (This will annoy Ramsey.)

>[B6] Write-in.

>>6288119
>If you have any clarifying questions, ask and I'll provide.
I feel like I have so many it’s more practical to just vote first


>>6288124
>A2
Show us the ropes, Monty sempai

>B3
The start is the most effective time to do this since we’re all more or less gathered and the max amount of contestants are still in.

>>6288307
>I feel like I have so many it’s more practical to just vote first
Completely fair. Now that you've voted, feel free to ask (or if you'd like to wait for the first round of dice to see how it plays out, that's fine too).

>>6288313
Ok first of all, damn, how many games has she held? At least 29 right?
She's pulling out all the stops for this one too. I'd imagine her circle doesn't usually participate or there'd be a lot less of them. She knows this is the FINAL SHOWDOWN just like us.

That token is really weirding me out. I've been wondering how Ramsey would force a conclusion or intervene to murder us for poor sportsmanship and it's probably through those. Can Richard tap R&D and maybe our clout with the Director to get a quicker analysis? We may need to disable not only our own, but those of our allies. It's probably the route to evading Ramsey's team up restrictions, since she can't surveil 64 people at once.

Will Ramsey get annoyed if we tear through her circle really quickly but then take a long time to clean up the scrubs? Seems the ideal route to minimize collateral damage and maximize Richard token analysis time, but too good to be true because of that.

When we chose how to pulverize people that target us, is it valid to say we do it in a way that causes no collateral damage? Is it guaranteed even if it's one of the more dangerous contestants targeting us, like a retainer? B1 implies taking those down is pretty tricky since it has a spend info suboption.

If we chose to hunt down the more dangerous targets, how does our ??? power level factor into the combined total for collateral?

How come the SPECIAL ABILITIES of our allies only trigger when we aren't teamed up? I wanna see them bust some sick moves.

You say we act first - can we pick based on what we see? If the targeting rolls lead to a three time winner rolling up on Earl, can we be like B1 intercept? Or is it as it seems, we pick our action before the targeting roll and pray things turn out ok? How does B3 affect targeting rolls? Now that I think about it that's another reason to use it asap, once people see us annihilate some attackers they'll be way less likely to try their luck.

Going into this one reason for picking Gil was his goo immortality. The power level death rules don't account for that. Is he at much higher risk than we anticipated here?

Injuries are only -1? No GRAVE INJURIES for -3? No rolling 1d3? Again how does Gil's unique composition come into play here?

How about Lucky? Can we count on his luck passively directing the more dangerous contestants away from attacking him?

Transformed Earl power level? Over 9000?

If B3 wins, can we make ourselves a target by calling out Ramsey for crown thieving and talking shit to try and draw in mostly her loyalists?

>>6288455
>Ok first of all, damn, how many games has she held? At least 29 right?
Three. (Don't know where you got 29 from.) She runs them with lots of participants, then stops them at the top 16 survivors, picks up sticks, and reruns another game elsewhere with the top 16 continuing to compete-- see >>6283682. The top 16 from the previous game are the combined ONE-TIME, TWO-TIME, and THREE-TIME WINNERS (i.e. some of the winners from the first and second games were killed, while some stuck around to win more). Ramsey's retainers, inner circle, and outer circle are not previous Game participants, but are people who have been hanging around and 1. helping her run the Games, 2. helping her power up the Crown, and 3. helping her do various dirty deeds. She's charismatic and has Crown powers, so finding helpers hasn't been an issue.

>She knows this is the FINAL SHOWDOWN just like us.
Correct (see >>6283682 again, this round has been dubbed the "GRAND FINALE")!

>Can Richard tap R&D and maybe our clout with the Director to get a quicker analysis?
Richard is not on good terms with R&D (or any department, frankly), and especially not after you blew up Management, which was a bunch of high-level R&D agents going rogue. He can maybe contact the Director. TBD. You'll get some downtime after all the rolls and fighting to look into it (or do other things).

>Will Ramsey get annoyed if we tear through her circle really quickly but then take a long time to clean up the scrubs?
Maybe, but scrubs are liable to get themselves killed, so you'll have to see how many remain after the first round. She'll get antsy if you start looking like you're deliberately dragging it out-- she wants drama.

>When we chose how to pulverize people that target us, is it valid to say we do it in a way that causes no collateral damage?
Yes, kind of. Once you (and/or your TEAMMATE) personally engage in combat, we'll have a different "minigame" using your Perks from the last couple threads, but if you're targeted by someone weak the risk of you personally causing collateral damage is low. If you're targeted by someone strong, they might cause it even if you try to avoid it, depending on how the fight works out. Spending INFO will help you in the minigame.

>If we chose to hunt down the more dangerous targets, how does our ??? power level factor into the combined total for collateral?
Collateral will be determined by the other minigame, not the standard rules. You work differently.

>How come the SPECIAL ABILITIES of our allies only trigger when we aren't teamed up? I wanna see them bust some sick moves.
The SPECIAL ABILITIES apply to the standard rules, not the other minigame. Your allies can still bust sick moves, they just won't be gamified in the same way.

(1/2)

>You say we act first - can we pick based on what we see?
You can't [B1] intercept as written, because Charlotte isn't psychic... probably. Maybe you'll get an option to improve this during downtime. For now, if you want to intervene, that's what [B5] is for. Also, SPECIAL ABILITIES will prevent anybody from getting instantly ganked, as you'll find out in a little while.

>Going into this one reason for picking Gil was his goo immortality. The power level death rules don't account for that. Is he at much higher risk than we anticipated here?
SPECIAL ABILITY.

>Injuries are only -1? No GRAVE INJURIES for -3? No rolling 1d3? Again how does Gil's unique composition come into play here?
I mean, if you want to roll even more dice, I'll consider it. SPECIAL ABILITY.

>How about Lucky? Can we count on his luck passively directing the more dangerous contestants away from attacking him?
SPECIAL ABILITY.

>Transformed Earl power level? Over 9000?
SPECIAL ABILITY.

>If B3 wins, can we make ourselves a target by calling out Ramsey for crown thieving and talking shit to try and draw in mostly her loyalists?
Sure, I think that's a valid write-in.

>>6288471
Sorry folks, typoed my trip. Except... I do like the look of !!sSe0FFeUzGe way more than the !!Z9LmIhi3uII the 4chan downtime stuck me with. Maybe I'll switch?

>>6288471
Oh, additionally:

>For now, if you want to intervene, that's what [B5] is for.
I should note that "annoying Ramsey" is not the same thing as "Ramsey instantly swoops down and kills everyone you love." If it starts being a pattern, she might go for it, but you can get away with it at least once.

and

>Now that I think about it that's another reason to use it asap, once people see us annihilate some attackers they'll be way less likely to try their luck.
This is accurate.

>>6288124
>A2
>B3

>>6288470
Ok I forgot she ran the previous ones to 16 finalists instead of just 1, my b.

>>6288124
>[A3] EARL.
>[B1] You will be HUNTING DOWN one of the most dangerous contestants...
>[B] ...and you're winging it. All will be fine.

We brought heavy hitters for a reason.

File: extra vote.png (178 KB, 975x629)

178 KB PNG

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>6288502
>>6288581
>>6288307
>pic related, which I'm honoring since it's a known voter
That's a majority for Monty, and a tie between [B3] and [B1B]. Flipping for those options in that order.

>>6288505
No problem! It was a while back.

Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>6288650
That's Monty, and you'll be hunting down someone dangerous with him. There's worse people to do that with. Rolling for which of RAMSEY'S RETAINERS you'll be targeting, then writing...

...Briefly. This will be a very short interstitial update before I reveal the SPECIAL ABILITIES and call for rolls.

>Byeee Gil

=THE GAME WILL START IN: 10 MINUTES=

God, that's loud! If Richard can't get rid of it, can he turn down the volume?

«I am investigating that too.»
«However, only one of us is the fated Herald, so perhaps you could pull a little of your own—»

You're busy! You're having a bonding moment! You're—

"Ms. Fawkins, we should get a move on," Lucky says. "And by 'we,' I mean you and your partner, as we wouldn't want to fall afoul of the regulations. You have been selecting partners over there, haven't you?"

You look at Gil. He doesn't say anything. Which was stupid of him, because Monty speaks up. "Charlotte, I thought we could partner."

...You suppose he doesn't like Lucky, and he doesn't know Earl or Gil as well as he knows you. But still. "Um, are you sure?"

"Jean is more interested in either of us than anybody else. If we're together, she'd be paying less attention to others. Moreover, I think we could do good work together. There's certain contestants that, if left unchecked, could..."

God! All very sensible. "Um, okay." You peek at Gil. "Sorry. But maybe it's good? You can do stuff on your own, too. Even if you like doing it with me. And when we meet up, you can..."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lucky says warningly. "Unless you intend to stand here and stab each other, finding cover is advised."

Monty jerks his head, and at last you follow, waving at Gil until he's gone.

=THE GAME WILL START IN: 5 MINUTES=

Stopping a little ways into the treeline, Monty draws a flask from his hip-bag. He unscrews the lid, sniffs it, and tilts it toward you. "Courage for you, Charlotte?"

Is courage fruity? Probably not. "Um, no thanks."

"No, you don't need it." He raises his eyebrows, shuts his eyes, and takes a good long swallow.

—————

>It's time! Please roll me 3 20d64s and one 2d64. (Neither you nor Monty will be rolling for target, since you have one already.)

>As an OPTIONAL BONUS, it should be possible to determine targeting and kills through the information provided in the WALL OF TEXT above. (It won't be possible to determine injury magnitude or collateral damage, but that occurs after all the fighting, so that's fine.) If an intrepid anon with time on their hands would like to beancount this for me, I will reward them with one (1) Drowned-themed doodle of their choice. Please specify what you'd like me to draw if you take me up on this. If nobody does, I will of course do the counting myself.

Additionally, here are the SPECIAL ABILITIES of your allies. Standard INJURIES will be a 1d3 per anon's suggestion.

Lucky:
>LUCKY always rolls maximum for his opponents' INJURIES (3).
>If LUCKY's opponent has already caused COLLATERAL DAMAGE, his POWER LEVEL is increased to 15 (minus injuries) for the duration of the fight.
>The first time LUCKY would DIE, a COURTIER DIES in his stead. This can activate the COURTIER's ability, if it's still possible to activate it.
>Every other time LUCKY would DIE, he rolls a 1d3. On a ONE, he escapes and rolls for COLLATERAL DAMAGE. On a TWO, he is INJURED twice, rolls for COLLATERAL DAMAGE, and escapes. On a THREE, he DIES.

Courtiers:
>The first time a COURTIER is about to DIE, they will set their surroundings ablaze, allowing them to escape, maximally INJURING their opponent, and causing a roll for COLLATERAL DAMAGE.
>(If you want to get them to stop burning everything in sight, TEAM UP with Lucky and he can tell them to knock it off.)

Earl:
>The first time EARL is INJURED, he will inject his 15% solution, healing the injury and increasing his POWER LEVEL to 10. His opponent will be INJURED instead.
>The first time EARL is about to DIE, he will inject his 50% solution, increasing his POWER LEVEL to 15 and resolving the situation as if it had always been 15. Additionally, he will roll for COLLATERAL DAMAGE. He will remain at POWER LEVEL 15 for the next DAY, whereupon he will change back and fall unconscious. There is an exception to this, which I will not reveal. If an enemy locates his unconscious self before you or an ally can, he will DIE without putting up resistance.

Monty:
>If MONTY is ATTACKING, he will refuse to outright KILL any opponent with a POWER LEVEL under 10. He will MAXIMALLY INJURE (3) them instead.
>If MONTY is BEING ATTACKED by a single opponent with a POWER LEVEL within 5 of his own, he will KILL them, and will not be INJURED. He will also KILL weaker opponents as usual. (This fails if he is attacked by multiple opponents.)
>Fights with Monty involved never result in COLLATERAL DAMAGE, no matter the POWER LEVEL or number of participants.
>If Monty DIES, he will KILL his opponent(s), regardless of his opponent(s)'s POWER LEVEL(s).
>The first time MONTY is about to DIE, if Jean Ramsey is NOT ANNOYED, she will cheat and prevent his DEATH. MONTY will not be happy about this.

Gil:
>GIL cannot DIE. Every time he would otherwise DIE, he will be INJURED.
>GIL always rolls minimum for INJURIES (1).
>If GIL reaches POWER LEVEL 0 through INJURIES, TEDDY will take over. TEDDY has a POWER LEVEL of 3 against opponents untouched by the Crown and a POWER LEVEL of 10 against opponents touched by the Crown. Teddy cannot gain POWER LEVEL through killing opponents. If TEDDY's POWER LEVEL reaches 0, he will DIE and/or MYSTERIOUSLY VANISH and GIL will be eliminated from contention.

Rolled 5, 28, 27, 39, 60, 7, 41, 13, 60, 25, 2, 60, 10, 32, 25, 3, 23, 62, 16, 28 = 566 (20d64)

>>6288682
Lots of dice

>>6288689
Also these are way more detailed special abilities than I was expecting
Very good reason to avoid annoying Ramsey too

>>6288744
Oh boy
Sorry Earl

Rolled 58, 21, 2, 21, 51, 55, 12, 28, 26, 9, 4, 35, 14, 36, 7, 17, 19, 18, 15, 13 = 461 (20d64)

>>6288682
One more roll, 5 hour rule

Rolled 23, 27, 14, 36, 36, 55, 21, 13, 49, 50, 56, 30, 61, 39, 22, 44, 28, 36, 5, 62 = 707 (20d64)

>>6288682
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Rolled 22, 1 = 23 (2d64)

I'll go ahead and roll the last two myself, and then beancounting will be open.

Rolled 2, 1, 1, 1, 3, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 1, 1, 1 = 18 (13d3)

Rolling for something...

>>6288893
Oh god, this is long beancounting
Retainer 1 - Inner circle 2
Retainer 2 - One time winner 4
Retainer 3 - OTW 3
Inner circle 1 - Viable contender 8
IC2 - EARL but also they're being attacked by Retainer 1 so maybe Earl catches a break
IC3 - IC4 Grudgematch
IC4 - VC10
IC5 - Outer Circle 5
OC1 - EARL
OC2 - OTW1
OC3 - Retainer 2, not very smart
OC4 - EARL
OC5 - OC2
OC6 - VC1
OC7 - OTW1
3TW1 - RETAINER 3
3TW2 - 2TW4
3TW3 - MONTY, good thing we hung by him
3TW4 - 3TW1
2TW1 - OTW4
------------------------20 DONE
2TW2 - COURT2
2TW3 - 2TW2 YES save courtier 2 pls
2TW4 - RETAINER 2
2TW5 - 2TW2 the two time winners really don't like their fellow member
OTW1 - SCRUB7 before getting pasted by 2 outer circle members
OTW2 - SCRUB11
OTW3 - OC4
OTW4 - ...themselves.....maybe it should have been a d63
OTW5 - OTW2
OTW6 - OC1
OTW7 - IC1
VC1 - VC4
VC2 - OC6
VC3 - VC5
VC4 - IC4
VC5 - 3TW2
VC6 - 3TW4
VC7 - 3TW3
VC8 - OC7
VC9 - OC5
------------------OK 40 DONE
VC10 - 2TW4
VC11 - OTW3
VC12 - OC6
VC13 - VC5
VC14 - VC5
SCRUB1 - SCRUB11
S2 - 2TW2
S3 - OC5
S4 - themselves again
S5 - themselves again
S6 - S12
S7 - OTW6
S8 - GIL, FUCK EM UP GIL
S9 - VC8
S10 - 2TW3
S11 - VC13
S12 - 2TW4
COURT 1 - VC5
COURT 2 - IC2
COURT 3 - MONTY WOAH FRIENDLY FIRE WTF LUCKY CONTROL THESE ANIMALS
EARL - 2TW3 Bro have some self preservation
GIL - Retainer 1 BRO SELF PRESERVATION WTF
MONTY - with us
LUCKY - ....I seem to have run out of rolls
Upon review it would appear that spot 45 is occupied by both a viable contender and a scrub. I gotta leave this one up to the QM.

Rolled 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 2, 2, 1, 1 = 14 (9d3)

>>6288930
Oh dear. Let's call 45 a SCRUB... but... remember, priority is backwards, so rolls are counted backwards, starting with Lucky, from >>6288893... ...which is what I've been doing in my own beancounting, because apparently I'm an impatient freak who actually wants to sit and add numbers. NEVERTHELESS, you are owed a doodle for your valiant if ultimately futile effort, so please place a request regardless,

Rolled 1, 3, 1, 1, 2, 2, 1, 1, 3, 2 = 17 (10d3)

I think that's it for this round of injuries. Look how many more dice you made me roll, anon.

>>6288962
LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME REDO

>>6288935
Augh, I was counting it in reverse order with courtier 2 being saved from 2 time winner 2 by the attacks of 2 time winners 3&5, but I didn't think the roll assignments would also be reversed

Oh well I'm committed now

LUCKY - Inner circle 2 uh he might regret that choice of target
GIL - One time winner 4 we take ties
EARL - OTW 3 improved better self preservation
C3 - Viable contender 8
C2 - EARL WOAH FRIENDLY FIRE WTF LUCKY CONTROL THESE ANIMALS
C1 - IC4
SCRUB12 - VC10
S11 - Outer Circle 5
S10 - EARL, much more managable
S9 - OTW1
S8 - Retainer 2
S7 - EARL
S6 - OC2
S5 - VC1
S4 - OTW1
S3 - RETAINER 3
S2 - 2TW4
S1 - MONTY
VC13 - 3TW1
VC12 - OTW4
------------------------20 DONE
VC11 - COURT2
VC10 - 2TW2
VC9 - RETAINER 2
VC8 - 2TW2
VC7 - SCRUB7
VC6 - SCRUB11
VC5 - OC4
VC4 -OTW4
VC3 - OTW2
VC2 - OC1
VC1 - IC1
OTW7 - VC4
OTW6 - OC6
OTW5 - VC5
OTW4 - IC4
OTW3 - 3TW2
OTW2 - 3TW4
OTW1 - 3TW3
2TW5 - OC7
2TW4 - OC5
------------------OK 40 DONE
2TW3 - 2TW4
2TW2 - OTW3
2TW1 - OC6
3TW4 - VC5
3TW3 - VC5
3TW2 - SCRUB11
3TW1 - 2TW2
OC7 - OC5
OC6 - S4
OC5 - S5
OC4 - S12
OC3 - OTW6
OC2 - GIL, FUCK EM UP GIL, no longer a scrub attacker :(
OC1 - VC8
IC5 - 2TW3
IC4 - VC13
IC3 - 2TW4
IC2 - VC5
IC1 - IC2 grudgematch
Retainer 3 - MONTY, VERY good thing we stuck with him
Retainer 2 - 2TW3
Retainer 1 - Retainer 1 aw, I thought we miraculously solved the self attack issue with the reorder
THEN AGAIN ideal if they do off themselves

>>6288964
Okay..... so...... I think this is the correct ordering of things. Except, er, I'm looking at my personal beancount (more extensive, with injuries and deaths and power level tracking and so on), and I accidentally skipped Courtier 1 so early in the ordering that literally everything is off by one. It would take a couple hours to fix it, even using your order as reference.

SO: I will compensate for putting you through even more useless trial by bending the multiattack rules a little so Earl + Gil murder attackers who come at them one by one like they're in a video game instead of getting dogpiled and mega murdered by four guys at once. Hooray! (Earl still gets injured a bunch, though.)

And please submit your doodle request.

Big count for a big-deal thread. Hold tight, folks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. The ever-confident LUCKY and his teammate COURTIER 1 (POWER LEVEL 10 + 4) attacks Contestant 1 (POWER LEVEL 25). You are also attacking Retainer 1, so this will play out in the next couple updates. MONTY is also attacking Contestant 1, so no COLLATERAL DAMAGE occurs.

2. GIL and his teammate EARL (POWER LEVEL 5 + 7) attack Contestant 22 (POWER LEVEL 10). GIL is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 5 -> 4). Contestant 22 is INJURED for 2 (POWER LEVEL 10 -> 8). COLLATERAL DAMAGE occurs.

3. EARL and his teammate GIL (POWER LEVEL 7 + 5) bump into MONTY (and you). Nothing happens.

4. COURTIER 3 and their teammate COURTIER 2 (POWER LEVEL 4 + 4) attack Contestant 5 (POWER LEVEL 15). COURTIER 3's SPECIAL ABILITY activates. Contestant 5 is INJURED for 3 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 12). COLLATERAL DAMAGE occurs. COLLATERAL DAMAGE occurs.

5. COURTIER 2 and their teammate COURTIER 3 (POWER LEVEL 4 + 4) attack Contestant 36 (POWER LEVEL 3). Contestant 36 DIES. COURTIER 2's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 4 -> 5). More than 4 people will be involved in this fight, causing COLLATERAL DAMAGE.

6. CONTESTANT 56 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 28 (POWER LEVEL 5). CONTESTANT 56 is INJURED and drops to 0 POWER LEVEL, so DIES. Contestant 28 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 5 -> 4).

7. CONTESTANT 55 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 44 (POWER LEVEL 3). CONTESTANT 55 is INJURED and drops to 0 POWER LEVEL, so DIES. Contestant 44 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 3 -> 2).

8. CONTESTANT 54 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 22 (POWER LEVEL 8). CONTESTANT 54 DIES. Contestant 22's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 8 -> 9).

9. CONTESTANT 53 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 39 (POWER LEVEL 3). CONTESTANT 53 is INJURED and drops to 0 POWER LEVEL, so DIES. Contestant 39 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 3 -> 2).

10. CONTESTANT 52 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks GIL and his teammate EARL (POWER LEVEL 4 + 7). CONTESTANT 52 is INJURED and drops to 0 POWER LEVEL, so DIES.

11. CONTESTANT 51 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 30 (POWER LEVEL 5). CONTESTANT 51 is INJURED and drops to 0 POWER LEVEL, so DIES. Contestant 30 is INJURED for 3 (POWER LEVEL 5 -> POWER LEVEL 2)

12. CONTESTANT 50 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks CONTESTANT 56 (POWER LEVEL 1). CONTESTANT 56 is already DEAD. Nothing happens.

13. CONTESTANT 49 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks CONTESTANT 50 (POWER LEVEL 1). CONTESTANT 49 and CONTESTANT 50 drop to 0 POWER LEVEL and DIE.


(1/4)

14. CONTESTANT 48 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 49. Contestant 49 is already DEAD. Nothing happens.

15. CONTESTANT 47 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 13 (POWER LEVEL 8). CONTESTANT 47 DIES. Contestant 13's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (8 -> 9)

16. CONTESTANT 46 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 21 (POWER LEVEL 10). CONTESTANT 46 DIES. Contestant 21's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (10 -> 11)

17. CONTESTANT 45 (POWER LEVEL 1) attacks Contestant 55. Contestant 55 is already DEAD. Nothing happens.

18. CONTESTANT 44 (POWER LEVEL 2) attacks Contestant 36 (POWER LEVEL 3). Nothing happens. See 5.

19. CONTESTANT 43 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 36 (POWER LEVEL 3). Nothing happens. See 5.

20. CONTESTANT 42 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 14 (POWER LEVEL 8). CONTESTANT 42 DIES. Contestant 14's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 8 -> 9).

21. CONTESTANT 41 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 27 (POWER LEVEL 5). CONTESTANT 41 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 3 -> 2). Contestant 27 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 5 -> 4).

22. CONTESTANT 40 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 23 (POWER LEVEL 10). CONTESTANT 40 DIES. Contestant 23's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 10 -> 11).

23. CONTESTANT 39 (POWER LEVEL 2) attacks Contestant 13 (POWER LEVEL 9). CONTESTANT 39 DIES. Contestant 13's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 10 -> 11).

24. CONTESTANT 38 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 15 (POWER LEVEL 8). CONTESTANT 38 DIES. Contestant 15's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 8 -> 9)

25. CONTESTANT 37 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 18 (POWER LEVEL 15). CONTESTANT 37 DIES. CONTESTANT 18's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 16). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

26. CONTESTANT 36 is DEAD.

27. CONTESTANT 35 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 17 (POWER LEVEL 15). CONTESTANT 35 DIES. CONTESTANT 17's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 16). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

28. CONTESTANT 34 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 7 (POWER LEVEL 15). CONTESTANT 34 DIES. CONTESTANT 7's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 16). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

27. CONTESTANT 33 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 36. Contestant 36 is already DEAD. (See 5.) Nothing happens.

28. CONTESTANT 32 (POWER LEVEL 3) attacks Contestant 14 (POWER LEVEL 9). CONTESTANT 32 DIES. Contestant 14's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 9 -> 10).

29. CONTESTANT 31 (POWER LEVEL 5) attacks Contestant 35. Contestant 35 is already DEAD. Nothing happens.

30. CONTESTANT 30 (POWER LEVEL 2) attacks Contestant 4 (POWER LEVEL 15). CONTESTANT 30 DIES. CONTESTANT 4's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 16). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

(2/4)

31. CONTESTANT 29 (POWER LEVEL 5) attacks Contestant 9 (POWER LEVEL 8). CONTESTANT 29 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 5 -> 4). Contestant 9 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 8 -> 7).

32. CONTESTANT 28 (POWER LEVEL 5) attacks Contestant 26 (POWER LEVEL 5). CONTESTANT 28 is INJURED for 1d3 (POWER LEVEL 5 -> 3). Contestant 26 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 5 -> 4).

33. CONTESTANT 27 (POWER LEVEL 4) attacks Contestant 28 (POWER LEVEL 3). CONTESTANT 27 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 4 -> 3). Contestant 28 is INJURED for 2 (POWER LEVEL 3 -> 1).

34. CONTESTANT 26 (POWER LEVEL 4) attacks Contestant 12 (POWER LEVEL 8).
CONTESTANT 27 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 4 -> 3). Contestant 28 is INJURED for 2 (POWER LEVEL 3 -> 1).

35. CONTESTANT 25 (POWER LEVEL 5) attacks Contestant 55. Contestant 55 is already DEAD. Nothing happens.

36. CONTESTANT 24 (POWER LEVEL 10) attacks Contestant 51. Contestant 51 is already DEAD. Nothing happens.

37. CONTESTANT 23 (POWER LEVEL 11) attacks Contestant 21 (POWER LEVEL 11). CONTESTANT 21 is INJURED for 1d3 (POWER LEVEL 11 -> X). Contestant 23 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 11 -> 10).

38. CONTESTANT 22 (POWER LEVEL 9) attacks Contestant 2 (POWER LEVEL 25). CONTESTANT 22 DIES. CONTESTANT 2's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 25 -> 26). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

39. CONTESTANT 21 (POWER LEVEL 11 - 1d3) attacks... Contestant 21? CONTESTANT 21 commits suicide. CONTESTANT 21 DIES.

40. CONTESTANT 20 (POWER LEVEL 10) attacks Contestant 58. Contestant 58 is already DEAD. Nothing happens.

41. CONTESTANT 19 (POWER LEVEL 15) attacks Contestant 28 (POWER LEVEL 1). Contestant 28 DIES. CONTESTANT 19's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 16). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

42. CONTESTANT 18 (POWER LEVEL 16) attacks Contestant 16 (POWER LEVEL 15). CONTESTANT 18 is INJURED for 1d3 (POWER LEVEL 16 -> X). Contestant 16 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 14). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

43. CONTESTANT 17 (POWER LEVEL 16) attacks MONTY. You are TEAMED UP with Monty, so this will be resolved separately, but CONTESTANT 17 will certainly DIE.

44. CONTESTANT 16 (POWER LEVEL 14) attacks Contestant 23 (POWER LEVEL 10). CONTESTANT 16 is INJURED for 1d3 (POWER LEVEL 14 -> X). Contestant 23 is INJURED for 1d3 (POWER LEVEL 10 -> X). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

45. CONTESTANT 15 (POWER LEVEL 8) attacks Contestant 2 (POWER LEVEL 25). CONTESTANT 15 DIES. Contestant 2's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 25 -> 26). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ENSUES.

46. CONTESTANT 14 (POWER LEVEL 10) attacks Contestant 25 (POWER LEVEL 5). CONTESTANT 25 DIES. Contestant 14's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 10 -> 11).

47. CONTESTANT 13 (POWER LEVEL 9) attacks Contestant 32. Contestant 32 is already DEAD. Nothing happens.

48. CONTESTANT 12 (POWER LEVEL 8) attacks Contestant 10 (POWER LEVEL 8). CONTESTANT 12 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 8 -> 7). Contestant 10 is INJURED for 2 (POWER LEVEL 8 -> 6). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

49. CONTESTANT 11 (POWER LEVEL 8) attacks EARL and his teammate GIL (POWER LEVELS 7 + 4). EARL is INJURED. EARL's special ability activates, obviating the INJURY, INJURING CONTESTANT 11 for 3 (POWER LEVEL 8 -> 5), and causing even more COLLATERAL DAMAGE. Earl's POWER LEVEL increases to 10. COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

50. CONTESTANT 10 (POWER LEVEL 6) attacks Contestant 2 (POWER LEVEL 26). CONTESTANT 10 DIES. Contestant 2's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 26 -> 27). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

51. CONTESTANT 9 (POWER LEVEL 8) attacks Contestant 25 (POWER LEVEL 5). CONTESTANT 9 is INJURED for 2 (POWER LEVEL 8 -> 6). Contestant 25 is INJURED for 2 (POWER LEVEL 5 -> 3).

52. CONTESTANT 8 (POWER LEVEL 15) attacks EARL and his teammate GIL (POWER LEVEL 10 + 4). CONTESTANT 8 is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 14). EARL is INJURED for 1 (POWER LEVEL 10 -> 9). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues. Extra COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues, because the fight now has 4+ participants.

53. CONTESTANT 7 (POWER LEVEL 16) attacks Contestant 13 (POWER LEVEL 9). Contestant 13 DIES. CONTESTANT 7's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 16 -> 17). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

54. CONTESTANT 6 (POWER LEVEL 15) attacks Contestant 41 (POWER LEVEL 2). Contestant 41 DIES. CONTESTANT 6's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 16). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

55. CONTESTANT 5 (POWER LEVEL 15) attacks Contestant 7 (POWER LEVEL 17). CONTESTANT 5 is INJURED for 1d3 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> X). Contestant 7 is INJURED for 1d3 (POWER LEVEL 17 -> X). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

56. CONTESTANT 4 (POWER LEVEL 15) attacks EARL and his teammate GIL (POWER LEVEL 9 + 4). EARL is INJURED for 1 (9 -> 8). CONTESTANT 4 is INJURED for 1 (15 -> 14). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

57. CONTESTANT 3 (POWER LEVEL 25) attacks Contestant 39 (POWER LEVEL 3), who thought he escaped the massacre of his peers. Contestant 39 DIES. CONTESTANT 3's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 25 -> 26). COLLATERAL DAMAGE ensues.

58. CONTESTANT 2 (POWER LEVEL 27) attacks Contestant 27 (POWER LEVEL 5). Contestant 27 DIES. CONTESTANT 2's POWER LEVEL increases by 1 (POWER LEVEL 27 -> 28).

59. CONTESTANT 1 (POWER LEVEL 25) will inevitably DIE by your hand, which is fine, because Contestant 28 is DEAD already anyways.

And... wait a sec. I have an extra die. Who am I missing? Oh, boy.

60. COURTIER 1, currently teammates with LUCKY (POWER LEVELS 4 + 10), attacks CONTESTANT 5 (POWER LEVEL 15). COURTIER 1 is injured for 3 (POWER LEVEL 4 -> 1). CONTESTANT 5 is injured for 3 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 12).

>>6288972
Oops, 34. is a bad copy/paste. Should be 26 injured for 1 (4 -> 3) and 12 injured for 2 (8 -> 6).

Anyways, uhhh... death toll and current POWER LEVEL statuses incoming.

>>6288973
32. should have 28 INJURED for... I never rolled it, but he's dead, so no big deal.

37. should have 21 INJURED for 3.

42. should have 18 INJURED for 1,

44, should be 16 INJURED for 1 and 23 INJURED for 1. Forgot to fill in all those Xs.

Both 5 and 7 should be injured for 2 (POWER LEVEL 15 -> 13; POWER LEVEL 17 -> 15). With this in mind, along with the fact that Contestant 5 caused COLLATERAL DAMAGE and activated Lucky's ability (and I screwed up the priority ordering that'd otherwise not make it trigger yet), 60. changes to this:

>COURTIER 1, currently teammates with LUCKY (POWER LEVELS 4 + 15), attacks Contestant 5 (POWER LEVEL 13). Contestant 5 DIES. COURTIER 1 gains 1 POWER LEVEL (4 -> 5).

Sorry for all the revisions, folks, this is complicated.

--------------

KILLED: 36, 56, 55, 54, 53, 52, 51, 50, 49, 47, 49, 42, 40, 37, 38, 35, 34, 30, 21, 28, 23, 15, 25, 17, 29, 13, 39, 27, 41, 10, 5, 22 (32 contestants -- the next count will be way shorter)
COLLATERAL DAMAGE ROLLS: 24

STILL LIVING:

>Retainers
Contestant 2: POWER LEVEL 28
Contestant 3: POWER LEVEL 26

>Inner Circle
Contestant 4: POWER LEVEL 14
Contestant 6: POWER LEVEL 16
Contestant 7: POWER LEVEL 15
Contestant 8: POWER LEVEL 14

>Outer Circle
Contestant 9: POWER LEVEL 6
Contestant 11: POWER LEVEL 5
Contestant 12: POWER LEVEL 7
Contestant 14: POWER LEVEL 11

>Three-Time Winners
Contestant 16: POWER LEVEL 13
Contestant 18: POWER LEVEL 15
Contestant 19: POWER LEVEL 14

>Two-Time Winners
Contestant 20: POWER LEVEL 10
Contestant 21: POWER LEVEL 8
Contestant 23: POWER LEVEL 9
Contestant 24: POWER LEVEL 10

>One-Time Winners
Contestant 26: POWER LEVEL 3
Contestant 29: POWER LEVEL 4
Contestant 31: POWER LEVEL 5

>Viable Contenders
Contestant 33: POWER LEVEL 3
Contestant 43: POWER LEVEL 3
Contestant 44: POWER LEVEL 3

>Scrubs
Contestant 45: POWER LEVEL 1
Contestant 48: POWER LEVEL 1

>Allies
Courtier 1: POWER LEVEL 5; SPECIAL ABILITY still intact
Courtier 2: POWER LEVEL 5; SPECIAL ABILITY still intact
Courtier 3: POWER LEVEL 4
Gil: POWER LEVEL 4; SPECIAL ABILITY still intact
Earl: POWER LEVEL 8; SPECIAL ABILITY still intact
Monty: POWER LEVEL 12; SPECIAL ABILITY still intact
Lucky: POWER LEVEL 10; SPECIAL ABILITY still intact

------------------------------

I'll set up collateral damage tables and roll on those in a while, I need a break!

>>6288969
>Except, er, I'm looking at my personal beancount (more extensive, with injuries and deaths and power level tracking and so on), and I accidentally skipped Courtier 1 so early in the ordering that literally everything is off by one. It would take a couple hours to fix it, even using your order as reference.
agony.jpg

>please submit your doodle request.
Pat & Lester on a date at a trendy cafe!

>>6288985
The scrubs and contenders wiped themselves out! There goes my plan to milk them for time.

File: fancy cafe.png (244 KB, 1075x532)

244 KB PNG

Rolled 16, 11, 4, 4, 17, 13, 9, 7, 10, 15, 2, 6, 8, 14, 17, 11, 17, 16, 17, 17, 11, 5, 12, 16 = 275 (24d18)

Okay, folks, we have TWENTY FOUR collateral damage checks to roll. I'm going to start off with rolling for location of the fights. I know some fights caused multiple counts of damage, but I'm not going to look too closely into it-- if necessary, the combatants moved around to different locations.

Lindew's Landing (outside): 1 - 3
Lindew's Landing (inside a building): 4
Outskirts of the Fen / path to town: 5 - 6
Middle of the Fen: 7 - 8
Tom's Cave: 9
Designated Base Camp murder arena: 10 - 13
In the middle of all the tents: 14 - 15
Underground: 16
Way out in the Mud Flats, somehow: 17
Way out in Hell, somehow: 18
>>6289000
Checked.

>Pat & Lester on a date at a trendy cafe!
You got it! See pic. Ah, better times....(?)

Rolled 2, 6, 1, 2, 4, 3, 4, 2, 6, 1, 2, 2, 1, 5, 3 = 44 (15d6)

>>6289084
Jeez, some lucky rolls, location-wise. But that barrier will be contracting soon...

3 FIGHTS occurred underground.
4 FIGHTS occurred in the murder arena Madrigal was building.
2 FIGHTS occurred inside a building in Lindew's Landing.
5 FIGHTS occurred way out in the Mud Flats. I guess a contingent of contestants just booked it outta Lindew's Landing?
1 FIGHT occurred inside Tom's Cave.

(Next post)
2 FIGHTS occurred in the middle of the Fen.
1 FIGHT occurred in Camp, outside the dedicated arena
1 FIGHT occurred in the middle of Lindew's Landing
2 FIGHTS occurred on the outskirts of the Fen.


Because I'm clinically insane, the different locations will have different tables for damage-- because there's a lot more people and infrastructure in some places than others.


UNDERGROUND:
1 - 2: Minor structural damage. (Increases risk of future cave-ins, even on other tables.)
3: Moderate structural damage (Increases risk of future cave-ins even more.)
4: An unfriendly creature is disturbed and unleashed.
5: A CAVE-IN occurs in an underpopulated location, causing structural damage and injuring one or two people. Roll for where.
6: A CAVE-IN occurs in a populated location, seriously injuring or even killing multiple people. Roll for where.


MURDER ARENA The murder arena has been made more resilient thanks to your help constructing it:
1 - 3: The arena is scuffed up, but survives its intended purpose.
4: The arena is damaged. It can be repaired if it's not damaged too much more.
5: The arena is severely damaged. One more destructive fight, and it'll be destroyed.
6: The arena is destroyed, and the fighting spills out into Camp proper. (Rolls on the "in Camp" table for all future MURDER ARENA rolls.)


INSIDE A BUILDING:
1: The building is damaged, but its inhabitants managed to evacuate.
2: The building is more-or-less destroyed, but its inhabitants managed to evacuate.
3: The building is damaged, and multiple townspeople were injured.
4: The building is damaged, and a townsperson was killed.
5: The building is destroyed, and multiple townspeople were killed.
6: Multiple buildings are wrecked. Multiple townspeople were killed, and a named character is injured.


ON THE MUD FLATS:
1 - 3: The mud gets some scorch marks on it.
4: The skimmers' dig is disturbed.
5: Some skimmers are injured.
6: A large portion of the skimmers' camp is destroyed. Somebody who lives there is injured.


IN TOM'S CAVE:
1: Bones are desecrated.
2: Bones are pulverized.
3: Some alligators escape.
4 - 5: A horde of hungry alligators is unleashed onto an unsuspecting public. A named character is bitten by an alligator.
6: Tom's Cave collapses entirely. Margo spins so hard in her grave that she re-invents the rotary engine.

Rolled 6, 4 = 10 (2d6)

>>6289132
Oops, didn't roll.

>Structural damage, structural damage, CAVE-IN in populated area

>Fine, fine, damaged, damaged: the ARENA is beat up but fixable for the next day

>One building destroyed... and multiple other buildings wrecked + death toll + injury to major character... whoops!

>Safe, safe, safe, safe, some skimmers injured

>Some alligators escape into the flaming wreckage of Lindew's Landing

Hmm. Could've been worse, but that 6 came in the exact wrong place, and we still don't know where that CAVE-IN was...

1 - 2 = Under the skimmer's camp -- sinkholes are especially common on the Flats
3 = Under Branwen's clearing, opening a rift into New-Headspace
4 = Under Lindew's Landing, to provide insult to injury
5 = In the cult's underground hideout
6 = Under camp... uh oh

...or which named character was injured in the Lindew's Landing destruction.

1 = Madrigal
2 = Pat
3 = Eloise
4 = Claudia
5 = Fake Ellery
6 = ANNIE!!!! :(

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>6289141
>Cave-in under camp
Good lord. 1d2 for under the ARENA (this will destroy the ARENA) or for under the tents.

>Claudia
Probably not too badly injured, given the goo, but assuredly traumatized.

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>6289142
>Under the tents
Well... folks... this is why they call them Drowned dice. It's fine. You're going to be God, and you're going to fix everything, and nothing will go wrong. (Also, people can't fight in the tents if there are no tents.) Rolling for specific outcome...

1 = Everybody's belongings are wrecked, but everyone is unscathed. (Belongings will also be wrecked in every other result.)
2 = A named character is injured.
3 = Multiple named characters are injured.
4 = A named character is seriously injured.
5 = Multiple named characters are seriously injured.
6 = A named character is seriously injured, and a named character is killed.

Rolled 5, 4 = 9 (2d5)

>>6289146
Alright! It's going to be fine. It's going to be fine, and you're going to kill Jean Ramsey, and you're thinking positive, and you're fine, and you're going to be God. You'll probably bring them back to life no sweat. Richard promised you could do that. It's fine.

Who's injured, and who dies? (If a seriously injured character is injured again, they'll die.) I won't reroll if it hits the same person, because you guys deserve one break.

1 = Madrigal
2 = Pat
3 = Eloise
4 = Fake Ellery
5 = ANNIE!!!! :(

Claudia is not on the list, because she was apparently in Lindew's Landing.

Rolled 4, 1, 4, 4, 1, 6 = 20 (6d6)

>ANNIE is seriously injured!!! :((((
>FAKE ELLERY dies!!!! (but will come back in 2-3 business days)

Okay! Wow! The positive thinking succeeded. Everyone say thank you to RNGesus.

Back to the rest of the tables. I'm sure nothing will possibly go wrong here.


IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FEN:
1 - 2: Some trees are knocked down.
3: A whole lot of trees are knocked down. Sone wildlife gets incinerated.
4: A camp of smugglers is wrecked.
5: Branwen's farm is wrecked. Animals roam loose.
6: An entire village of fish-people is wrecked.


IN THE MIDDLE OF (the wreckage of) LINDEW'S LANDING:
1 - 3: It's hard to cause more destruction than what's already occurred. Also, Ramsey's stage blocks a lot of the damage.
4: The outsides of previously unscathed buildings are damaged, but everyone's already fled the scene.
5: Most have fled, but some aren't so quick. Some townspeople are injured. One or two that were already injured die.
6: In fleeing the destruction of the buildings, the townspeople sprint directly into another massive fight. Many more townspeople are killed.


ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE FEN, where most of the surviving townspeople have fled:
1: Some trees are knocked down, but not enough to block the path.
2: The path between Camp and town is entirely blocked, and would take effort to clear.
3: The path is blocked, and some townspeople are trapped and injured.
4: The escaped alligators arrive. Several townspeople are bitten. One bleeds out.
5: Several townspeople are injured or severely injured. One named character is injured while trying to help.
6: Several townspeople are injured or severely injured. One named character is severely injured while trying to help.


IN THE MIDDLE OF (the wreckage of) CAMP:
1 - 3: It's hard to cause more destruction than what's already occurred.
4: Several camp members are injured.
5: Several camp members are injured or severely injured. One named character is injured.
6: Several camp members are killed. One named character is injured, and one is severely injured.

Rolled 2, 3 = 5 (2d5)

>>6289157
>A camp of smugglers is wrecked, and some trees are knocked down

>The facades of more buildings in town are damaged

>More trees are knocked down, and the outskirts of the Fen are now swarming with alligators

>MORE NAMED CHARACTER INJURIES

Drowned dice! Drowned dice! Drowned dice! Drowned dice! I'll say that Claudia has had time to get back to Camp by the time these rolls occur, but Fake Ellery is... well.. dead. First die for injury, second for severe injury. (Two injuries is a severe injury. Two severe injuries is a death.)

1 = Madrigal
2 = Pat
3 = Eloise
4 = Claudia
5 = ANNIE!!!! :(

>>6289158
>Pat injured (likely in some magyckal way, given the goo)
>Eloise severely injured

And that is it for collateral damage! For today! The good news is, with the playing field severely cut down, you're probably not going to roll 24 times next round. Probably. The other good news is that all the tables are pre-written for next time, so I never have to do that again. (Maybe literally. We are in Thread 49.)

I need to eat something, and then I need to consider what the update is going to look like: I planned to launch you straight into the fight minigame, but I've been doing so much calculating I'm not sure I have time (or the mental capacity) to write up even more rules. Maybe I'll do a brief POV swap of the destruction, or I'll just cut off right before the fight and do it tomorrow. My apologies, folks.

>Interlude

"And you do?" you say, a little concerned.

"Yes." He screws the lid back on the flask. "I'm not afraid, if that's the question."

What? "But you're... nervous?"

"Not particularly. I have—" He stops, wipes his lips, rakes his hear back, stows the flask. "I have done this before. I don't fear my own death, Charlotte. I hope you don't take it as insulting when I say I don't fear yours. And Mr. Blaine is very capable, and of course Gil, and— I'm afraid I don't know Earl very well, but I trust you tapped him for a reason. We are all well-equipped for this."

Sometimes you think you can't be God fast enough. "So you're not scared, and you're not nervous. Do you just like the stupid taste? You didn't even drink at all until— until—"

"A couple months ago?"

It's been that long? This is all Richard's fault. "Y- yeah!"

"Well, back then, I thought— I can be honest with you, Charlotte. I thought it would cause my old self to surface. Or— or my actual self. You're aware. Haven't you met him?"

You fold your arms. "Are you going to strangle me?"

"No, I— can't. Outside of terrible impulses like that, momentary impulses, I can't find him anymore. Madrigal got me very drunk, a while back, and we searched, and couldn't..." Monty smiles mirthlessly. "Somewhere along the way, he dissolved. I lie awake at night wondering when. And I don't know how we got on this topic, considering the pressing circumstances— will there be a countdown?"

«You have about a minute.»

"We have a minute," you report.

"Alright." He slings the trident off his back, settles it in his grip. "Oh, the courage. He left me, and now I find myself in the bizarre situation of needing him. And it's my hope that, if I drink in moderation, it could help lubricate the..."

"The killer instincts?"

"You do have a way with words. We'll see how successful I am."

You shake your head. "All you need to do is soften them up, okay? Or drive them over to me, and then I'll slay, with my righteous blade, the hideous evildoers. Okay? That's what being a team is for!"

Now his smile is genuine, if slight. "I did pick you, didn't I. Now—"

=THE GAME HAS BEGUN! CONTESTANTS REMAINING: SIXTY-FO—=

You and Monty wince identically, then wince again: there's a throttled scream.

=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: SIXTY-THR—=

And another, more distant.

=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: SIXTY-TW—=
=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: SIXT—=
=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: SIXTY=
=CONTESTANTS REM—=
=CONTES—=
=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: FIFTY-SEV—=

And from all over, all around, screaming and yelling and cursing and far-off gory THUNKS and SPLATS, and Monty, his mouth set, taps your shoulder and leads you off once more.

>[TO BE CONTINUED!]

>>6289159
Holy moly
How many tables did you make for this?

>>6289349
Count them! Looks like... uh... thirteen. That bodes well.

File: you did good today buster.png (275 KB, 902x720)

275 KB PNG

Yuck. No real excuse today-- just got way too sidetracked. Update tomorrow FOR SURE, and have some Earl art I don't think I've posted in-thread before.

>CONTINUED

Monty walks lightly, quickly, and purposefully, though if he has a destination in mind, you don't know it. The Fen is rapidly becoming unfamiliar. You hop over logs and roots and ditches and flinch at every =ANNOUNCEMENT= that blasts through the token— while they're slowing down, they're not stopping.

Monty stops, holding his hand up to stop you too, though you can't see why. Nothing is new or special about your surroundings. The screaming is barely audible from here. When you open your mouth to ask what the big deal is, he shakes his head and pats a nearby tree.

What? "If you don't want to be heard," you whisper, "I can just—"

Oh, he's already climbing the tree. Great. Most of the branches are out of reach, but his spooky arm is spiraling up and latching onto one, and he's pulled a knife out of his pouch and is using it as leverage to pull the rest of him up. God, he must be strong, because it's actually working. He's kicking and his good arm is flexing in a way that reminds you of book covers.

With a bare minimum of grunting, he hoists himself up, settles, and stretches the spooky arm out to retrieve the knife— then stops. He pats the tree next to it, then points at you.

Do you need it to get up? You shake your head, and the knife is retrieved. No, you don't need it. Yes, you're wearing a full suit of armor, and you weigh thrice what you ought to, and you have a tail. Yes, you're not traditionally equipped for tree-climbing. But is tree-climbing not a heroic staple? A Josey Hatchcock staple? And aren't you the Herald? Monty climbed the damn tree, and he isn't anybody at all. Some dumb washed-up mass-murderer. You're God.

Which means that you place your hands against the slimy bark (there's algae, to add insult to injury) and shut your eyes and think very hard about climbing the tree, until you feel certain you can do it, until the air is thick with treeclimbingness, and then you open your eyes and do it. As if your hands and feet were glued on. You crawl up and onto Monty's sturdy branch— which begins to bow from your weight, until you concentrate a little harder and aren't heavy. Monty's stare is intent but not cold. Maybe thoughtful?

"Hi!" you handsign, then imagine Monty (tailless, deprived of superior balance) trying to sign back, lower your hands, and shut your eyes once more. "...Woosh! Okay, we can talk."

"Voice low," Monty says, voice low.

"Nope! Not needed! Nobody will hear us."

"Charlotte, it's not safe to assume—"

"Nobody will hear us," you say seriously. "Maybe if they get really close. Like, if they climb the same tree. But normally? No way."

"Because you made it so?"

"Yes! I did! I said 'woosh.' That— that makes it definite. Watch, I could scream right now, and nobody would—"

(1/6?)

"I'd know. You'd be doing it right in my ear." His eyes crinkle. "I'd prefer to keep going, actually. I have... you'll see."

A little further up, in the thick of the tree's crown, is a crude wooden platform and a stash. That's the best word for it. More knives, a big bolt-gun, a few flechettes, gauze, glorbs, a net, a scope, empty bottles, a tin of mysterious brown powder— Monty has swiped two fingers through the powder and is already ingesting it. "Enhances night vision," he says, as you boggle. "The locals make it. God knows from what. Do you need it?"

"I— I— no! I can see in the dark fine. Without drugs."

"I thought you might. I wouldn't be surprised if Jean can. I never got that far." He stows the tin. "I don't know how active we'll be tonight, but I don't want to get caught with my pants down. Overconfidence just killed about a sixth of the candidates. I assure you, it's about to kill a whole lot more. I'm comfortable being patient."

You shift. "How patient?"

"We can take opportunities as they come." He slides the trident off his back and rests it on his lap. "If they don't come, I'd like to give it at least an hour. Maybe several. If our opponents whittle themselves down, that's only ever a positive."

"Until their whittling starts exploding things. When I met one of Ramsey's dumb lackies, he was blasting down rock walls like—"

"Charlotte, with your powers, can you be everywhere at once?"

You scowl. "Not yet."

"Okay. Then we can't control the destruction caused. We can hope it'll be minimal, but that's... at the moment, there's..." He squeezes his eyes shut. "If we don't keep our focus solely on the Game, it'll destroy us. There's no room for dabblers. There never was. Mads will be keeping everything in check, and that'll— I trust her."

"I don't think Madrigal can do anything about people exploding things," you say.

"I don't want to talk about this." Monty's spooky arm is oozing. He tilts his head down, then up again. "Do you have horns?"

Can't you ever stop touching your horns when your horns get mentioned? When you're God you'll be able to. The Herald's arms are too short. "...Maybe..."

"Yes, then."

"I have a tail, too," you say protectively. "That's sort of more notable."

"I don't spend a lot of time looking at your backside. The horns are tougher to miss, even if they are... tough. I don't always see them. Are you a demon after all, then?"

He doesn't say it with particular malice. "No," you say. "Um, I'm a lizard. And God. It's really complicated."

"I'm sensing that. And you were always a lizard?" He meets your eyes. "And God?"

(2/6?)

"...No. I was born normal. Um, and I am normal. Human. I'm not— I'm not anything— I didn't hatch out of a lizard egg!" Even Richard didn't hatch out of a lizard egg, as far as you know. Either the Wyrm made him, or some other lizards grew him in a bottle. "I've just had some changes."

"And so have I." He looks down.

"And Jean Ramsey, apparently." You pause. "Are her arms that buff? I— I don't know if I've ever seen your— maybe I blocked it out of my mind. You always wear long sleeves."

"People say things when I don't." Monty stretches his good arm straight out. Definitely a book-cover arm. You could plink rocks off it. "Jean's are worse, actually."

"Worse?"

"This big around." He makes a circle with two hands. "But you should see the rest of her. She had the mask on for years. I had it for one, and it still... I mean..." He drops the arm and, to your horror, pulls his shirt up. Not all the way, but enough to expose a— a— a book-cover abdomen. It might as well be glistening. You avert your eyes hastily: Monty is married, but that doesn't make it right to look upon! Not right at all. You didn't think people not from books could look like that.

Monty sees your reaction, drops his shirt quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to... I was just trying to illustrate... I don't like it either, Charlotte."

Your face is hot. "Because ladies shouldn't— young ladies shouldn't—?"

"Because it's not mine. You have to understand, I was plenty fit back then. I was at the top of the leaderboards. But I didn't have this artificial—" He plucks at the fabric of the shirt. "And the teeth, and the skin, and the hair— no body hair. It actually— it fell out. Just horrifying. And I didn't know I'd die and be stuck with it. Probably would've picked a better method if I... knew. Jean loves it. She gets a crowd and cracks whole oysters with her biceps."

"Really?"

"At least once. Then she ate them." Monty rubs his hand up his face, through his hair. "I— I'm sorry. You didn't need to hear all that. That drink was stronger than I... I'm sorry. I don't usually... I hope you feel better about them than I do. Your changes."

"Well," you say, "at first, I guess I felt sort of the same. Because Richard would do things without even asking. But then I found out about it, and I— I— I was the one who asked for the tail, actually. So I'm good."

"That's good." His smile is weak but genuine-seeming. "I'm glad to hear it."

"I'll like it better when I have armor for it, though. The tail. You did notice that I'm wearing—?"

"I did. Er, Pat did an excellent job. Very fitting. Not that armor's really typical for the Game, but neither are you, so it's for the better."

Pat? "How much of an open secret was this?"

(3/6?)

"Eh... quite a bit? If it was a surprise to you, that's the main thing. Oh! That reminds me!" Monty reaches into his hip pouch and pulls out an envelope. "Eloise took it upon herself to get a card going. Everybody signed, just about. I believe Gil even solicited the signature of your... Beast. Or whatever it is."

Dread and Terrible. Richard signed?

«Yes.»

Um, metaphysically?

«It might be in your handwriting.»

Great. You reach for the envelope, but Monty doesn't give it. "I'll hand it over, but just, er, be judicious about reading it. Our lives are at risk. Or... mine is, and your distraction puts it more at risk. So..."

You make grabby hands. "Just give it!"

And he does: from below there's a THUD and a yell and pounding footfalls, and Monty startles forward, inadvertently pressing the envelope against you. Which would be perfectly fine, except you're covered in goo, and the goo takes it upon itself to, before Monty can even pry his hand away, absorb the envelope whole. Okay! Great. At least you know where it is. The bigger issue: there are two people tussling right under your tree. Not really "tussling." One's standing, all bloody, and one's slumped over.

=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: FIFTY-THREE=

Easy enough. The victor (it's hard to see through the leaves and branches) is bending over. There's a squelch. The victor walks off. Silence.

Geez. You open your mouth, but Monty shakes his head— you probably still wouldn't be heard, but fine. What should you do? Loot the body? Can you possess it? That'd probably really scare Monty, plus it's mortally wounded. What would be the heroic thing? Burying it? You do have earth powers...

A rustle from below. The victor returning? No, it's somebody new— somebody in black. A mask. Not bulky enough to be Ramsey, so an attendant? They're participating? Doesn't Ramsey know you'll have to kill this one?

The attendant (are those her retainers?) is crouching over the body. And... eww!! Weird tendrils are snaking from the attendant into the body. What even are those? What is he doing?

Monty jabs you: he's leaned over, spying in the opposite direction. You lean too. A black-haired woman, tall, devoid of tendrils, is hiking herself up a tree down the way. Damnit! Copying your idea!

To assess them both, you shut your good eye. The black-haired woman is awfully glowy, and her strings have big nasty zigzags and knots in them. Something's been done to them. As for disgusting tendril man, his strings are even glowier, and even knottier— basically a rat's nest. Maybe that means he's stronger?

"We need to take him out," you hiss at Monty, pointing back toward the tendril man (still sucking away at the corpse). "Maybe we can drag her into it? Two on two? I can win!"

(4/6?)

"Maybe. I—" Monty's attention is drawn in a third direction. He's squinting. "Is that...?"

Lucky! And Hatch. You think that Courtier's Hatch. How did he get here? He looks no worse for wear so far, so maybe he just wandered? Well, now you positively have to beat up the other ones. So you can see the look on Lucky's face.


------------------

Welcome to a REAL FIGHT!

>During the FIGHT, you will be using the PERSONAL PERKS you've been building up to kick the absolute shit out of your opponent(s). Each PERSONAL PERK is worth, at a baseline, ONE POINT per level: [Extrareal V] is worth 5 points, [The Sun III] is worth 3 points, and so on. You will choose what combination of PERKS you'd like to use to win.

>In order to KILL your opponents, you must match or exceed their POINT VALUE, which is roughly correlated to but not equivalent to their POWER LEVEL. Because you did not spend INFO, you're only able to ascertain a very broad RANGE for your opponents' POINT VALUES. If you spend PERKS up to the maximum of that RANGE, you are guaranteed to KILL them, but watch out: spending more than the exact value (i.e. overkilling them) could cause COLLATERAL DAMAGE, not to mention waste your PERKS. Meanwhile, spending less than the exact value gives your opponents an opportunity to INJURE your allies.

>When you spend a PERK in a FIGHT, the PERK drops down a level: [Extrareal V] goes to [Extrareal IV], [The Sun III] goes to [The Sun II], and so on. This represents future opponents hearing about and adapting to your abilities, not you actually getting worse at them. (How do they hear about them if your opponents are successfully KILLED? Maybe those tokens have something to do with it!) The higher-level your PERKS are at the end of the Game, the more effective they'll be against Jean Ramsey.

>You can spend the same PERK multiple times to represent using it a whole bunch in the same fight. It will continue to go down in LEVELS every time you use it. (If you spend [Extrareal V] twice, it will become [Extrareal III], and will be worth 9 POINTS total-- for V + IV.)

>Your TEAMMATES can be "spent" as POINTS against your opponents' POINT VALUES, or used for other useful things, depending on how you direct them.

>A list of your PERSONAL PERKS is below. INTERPERSONAL PERKS are inapplicable, because the people they represent mostly aren't present. They might be useful later.

---------

=YOUR FINAL STATUS=

Personal perks:

>[Positive Thinking VII]: You can maintain a state of unbreakable optimism indefinitely. (7 POINTS)

>[The Herald's Mind VII]: You are the Herald. When you want to be. (7 POINTS)

>[The Herald's Body VII]: You are the Herald. Or as close as a human can get. Also, you have a tail. (And night vision, and paralytic venom, and enhanced flexibility, and scales, and...) (7 POINTS)

>[Extrareal V]: You absorb reality into yourself within a 10-foot radius. This is obvious to anybody metaphysically attuned, and the non-attuned get a very strange feeling around you. (5 POINTS)

>[Snaketongue V]: You can speak, read, write, and comprehend Richard's native language, even if you don't know how. (5 POINTS)

>[Legerdemain IV]: You can pull either largeish things or implausible things out of thin air, but not both. (4 POINTS)

>[Earthsense IV]: If you have access to earth, you can perceive things about a mile out. (4 POINTS)

>[Communion IV]: You can enter people's minds on eye contact (and, from there, their bodies), and it's very difficult to remove you. (4 POINTS)

>[On Fire! IV]: You can't shoot fire out of your hands. (They get too hot.) But you *can* shoot it from The Sword, and things within your Extrareal radius will actually light. (4 POINTS)

>[Advanced (Advanced) Gaslighting IV]: You don't have to try very hard at all to make the things you say true. (4 POINTS)

>[The Sun III]: The sun in your chest is about the size of two hands making a circle. You can't do too much with it, but maybe it'll help out if you're in duress. (3 POINTS)

>[Red Stuff III]: You have a decent handle on the red stuff. Enough of a handle for 12 SV? Uh... (3 POINTS)

>[OPEN III]: You can use [OPEN] semi-regularly, though the exact effects are still out of your control. (3 POINTS)

>[Good With A Sword III]: You're a little better with a sword than you used to be. On par with a professional murderess with decades of experience? Uh... you'll need to rely on other skills. (3 POINTS)

>[Fingerwork II]: You can touch strings with your bare hands, provided you can get your bare hands into somebody's body. You have no idea what to do with them except messing around blindly, though. (2 POINTS)


--------------------

Now for your fight against RETAINER #1 and THREE-TIME WINNER #2! You rapidly ascertain that RETAINER #1 has a POINT VALUE between 35 and 45, and THREE-TIME WINNER #2 has a POINT VALUE between 15 and 25. (If you had spent INFO, you'd know a tighter range.)

>[A] How do you DEFEAT RETAINER #1? Choose your combination of PERKS. (Optional: Write-in your specific strategy for a bonus!)

>[B] How do you DEFEAT THREE-TIME WINNER #2? Choose your combination of PERKS. (Optional: Write-in your specific strategy for a bonus!)

---

>[C] Your current TEAMMATE is MONTY. How do you put him to use?
>>[1] Instruct MONTY to attack RETAINER #1. (He is worth 12 POINTS against RETAINER #1.)
>>[2] Instruct MONTY to attack THREE-TIME WINNER #2. (He is worth 12 POINTS against THREE-TIME WINNER #2.)
>>[3] Instruct MONTY to unleash his KILLER INSTINCTS against RETAINER #1. (RETAINER #1 will DIE. Monty will be INJURED three times. Roll twice for COLLATERAL DAMAGE.)
>>[4] Instruct MONTY to unleash his KILLER INSTINCTS against THREE-TIME WINNER #2. (THREE-TIME WINNER #2 will DIE. Monty will be INJURED. Roll for COLLATERAL DAMAGE.)
>>[5] Instruct MONTY to SPREAD HIS FOCUS. (He is worth 5 POINTS against RETAINER #1 and 5 POINTS against THREE-TIME WINNER #2.)
>>[6] Instruct MONTY to act as SUPPORT. You'll take care of the firepower. (Monty will prevent all COLLATERAL DAMAGE, even if you OVERKILL either opponent. He will also reduce OVERKILL by up to 5 POINTS, refunding PERK levels as necessary.)
>>[7] Write-in? (If you have a clever strategy, write it in and I'll adjucate.)


>[D] Um, for some reason, LUCKY and HATCH (COURTIER #1) are also here? You don't need them (hmph), but maybe you can use them?
>>[1] Instruct LUCKY and COURTIER #1 to attack RETAINER #1. (They are collectively worth 15 POINTS against RETAINER #1.)
>>[2] Instruct LUCKY and COURTIER #1 to attack THREE-TIME WINNER #1. (They are collectively worth 15 POINTS against THREE-TIME WINNER #1.)
>>[3] Instruct LUCKY and COURTIER #1 to SET YOUR SURROUNDINGS ON FIRE!!! (Both opponents take 10 POINTS of damage. Roll for COLLATERAL DAMAGE. Due to the properties of fire, certain PERKS might be rendered less effective.)
>>[4] Instruct LUCKY and COURTER #1 to PISS OFF. You have this handled. (Jean Ramsey, proud of your good sportsmanship, will not be ANNOYED by the next action that would otherwise ANNOY her.)
>>[5] Write-in? (If you have a clever strategy, write it in and I'll adjucate.)

---

>[E] You thought you didn't remember anything about these opponents, but bits and pieces are coming back... (Spend INFO for an inefficient but free source of POINTS. OPTIONAL.)
>>[1] Each one unit of INFO is worth 2 POINTS. You have 14 INFO. How much do you spend? (Write-in.)

>>6290259
>[C] Your current TEAMMATE is MONTY. How do you put him to use?
>[2] Instruct MONTY to attack THREE-TIME WINNER #2. (He is worth 12 POINTS against THREE-TIME WINNER #2.)

>>6290522
Anon... >>6286563. I'm sorry to say that you'll need to do a little more math than that.

>>6290259
>A
>D1
Ok we're gonna have Lucky and Hatch attack him and we'll back them up with all our stacks of Earthsense and Communion and OPEN and Fingerwork. We'll like, earth coffin them and get in their head and unravel them.
15+10+10+6+3 = 44

>B
>C1
We'll also back up Monty with 3 snaketongue stacks. No idea how that'll work out. Confuse them while Monty dismembers them?
12+5+4+3 = 24

Praying they don't have PLs of 25 and 45 here, that would be truly unfortunate. Shoulda spent info.

Rolled 7, 5 = 12 (2d10)

>>6290592
Thank you, valiant mechanics anon. I write these minigames for you and nobody else. Which means that, if you don't find this interesting, let me know and I might simplify it, because otherwise NOBODY is getting anything out of this.

>Praying they don't have PLs of 25 and 45 here, that would be truly unfortunate
Let's find out! C'mon, Drowned Dice...

Rolled 5, 1 = 6 (2d5)

>>6290691
They do not. They have PLs of 42 and 20, respectively. Every 1 point of PL greater than the actual number will give you a 1/5 chance of COLLATERAL DAMAGE, so let's see if anything happens...

>+2 over PL (2/5 chance: 1-2 is COLLATERAL DAMAGE)
>+4 over PL (4/5 chance: 1-4 is COLLATERAL DAMAGE)

>>6290696
>Safe
>COLLATERAL DAMAGE

One roll. I'll do that later. For now, both RETAINER #1 and THREE-TIME WINNER #2 are dead as doornails, and your allies are uninjured.

Also, your write-ins give you retroactive +5 POINTS against both opponents. I will arbitrarily refund one stack of [Snaketongue], one stack of [OPEN], and one stack of [Fingerwork].

-------------

>[Positive Thinking VII]: You can maintain a state of unbreakable optimism indefinitely. (7 POINTS)

>[The Herald's Mind VII]: You are the Herald. When you want to be. (7 POINTS)

>[The Herald's Body VII]: You are the Herald. Or as close as a human can get. Also, you have a tail. (And night vision, and paralytic venom, and enhanced flexibility, and scales, and...) (7 POINTS)

>[Extrareal V]: You absorb reality into yourself within a 10-foot radius. This is obvious to anybody metaphysically attuned, and the non-attuned get a very strange feeling around you. (5 POINTS)

>[Legerdemain IV]: You can pull either largeish things or implausible things out of thin air, but not both. (4 POINTS)

>[On Fire! IV]: You can't shoot fire out of your hands. (They get too hot.) But you *can* shoot it from The Sword, and things within your Extrareal radius will actually light. (4 POINTS)

>[Advanced (Advanced) Gaslighting IV]: You don't have to try very hard at all to make the things you say true. (4 POINTS)

>[Snaketongue III]: You can speak, read, write, and comprehend Richard's native language, even if you don't know how. (3 POINTS)

>[The Sun III]: The sun in your chest is about the size of two hands making a circle. You can't do too much with it, but maybe it'll help out if you're in duress. (3 POINTS)

>[Red Stuff III]: You have a decent handle on the red stuff. Enough of a handle for 12 SV? Uh... (3 POINTS)

>[Good With A Sword III]: You're a little better with a sword than you used to be. On par with a professional murderess with decades of experience? Uh... you'll need to rely on other skills. (3 POINTS)

>[OPEN I]: You can use [OPEN] semi-regularly, though the exact effects are still out of your control. (1 POINT)

>[Fingerwork I]: You can touch strings with your bare hands, provided you can get your bare hands into somebody's body. You have no idea what to do with them except messing around blindly, though. (1 POINT)


---------


Writing.

File: gold mask.jpg (18 KB, 300x446)

18 KB JPG

>FIGHT!!!

Hell, you'll even let Lucky have the lamer one— he can mop her up and watch you polish off the real villain. Monty can help you, though, if he wants.

"They'll figure it out!" you say. "Don't worry about it! I'm going to go kill the one in the mask."

When Monty shouts "Wait!", you have no idea why. Was that not plenty of warning? You're already springing from the tree, Sword outstretched.

—————————————

Your name is CLEMENT VICENTE. You are a retainer of the Hero-Queen, for whatever that's worth. Apparently very little. The Hero-Queen, glory be her name, has seen fit to shove you, and in fact everyone in her employ, into the Game— the Game you, above anyone else, helped to organize and execute. There is only one motivation for this: the Hero-Queen, long may she live, intends to kill you.

You're comfortable with this, because you intend to kill her. While your shit-for-brains peers bitched and moaned about the "betrayal," you wondered how they didn't see it coming from the start. Did they forget the selection process? Did they block it out of their heads, the Hero-Queen's naked, aimless ambition, her disregard for human life, her total glee at bloodshed? Did they come to like her? You certainly weren't going to warn them. If the Hero-Queen paved them over, so be it.

What mattered, and what matters, is you. The way you see it, the Hero-Queen has granted you a gift: a legitimate shot at power. You could never take her in a direct fight, but you've seen the way that crown sits on her head: poorly. One good knock, one good snatch, and it'll be yours— and you can pave her over, and at last do as you please. Make it through the next few days, and it's as good as settled.

You will, of course, make it. Let the morons beat the piss out of each other, for all you care: all you need to do is pick off a couple stragglers, enough to evade punishment for inactivity, then swoop in at the end and claim it. Who's your competition, really? Cino? Uh-huh. The shambling corpse of Bera? Please. Kurz already bit it. The Hero-Queen, almighty and all-knowing, made a big deal of warning everybody about her "buddy." That's a guy who knows how to fight, sayeth she— so he can swing a fist? Wonderful. You happen to have a little more going on than that.

You have more going on than whatever idiot died here, and whichever idiot left the body lying there, still full of perfectly good blood. You're happy to take it, if they won't. You like the taste.

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHDIEEEEEEVILLLLLDOER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

(1/6?)

You are alerted, aurally, to the incoming presence of a little girl. She is attempting to fall atop you, or maybe she slipped out of her tree. All too typical: you snort, sidestep, and shoot your unraveling arm out, catching her handily in a tangle of roots. You shove a couple down her throat, but not into her lungs. Yet.

The little girl is half hair by volume, has a dark blank right eye, and sports white horns. A minor Game-winner, possibly? Did one of the Hero-Queen's acquisitions deal in horns? You're coming up blank. It hardly matters. "Bad choice," you inform her. "Now, sweetie, I'll be nice. Would you like your lungs filled up, or should I go straight through to the heart? Feel free to groan once for 'lungs,' twice for—"

"SIR!" You turn your attention: oh, it's Wind Court. Two. Weren't they all dead already? "STEP AWAY FROM THAT WOMAN! IMMEDIATELY!"

Well, there's a reason they were all dead already. "I'm a little occupied," you say evenly, "so why don't you run along and get yourself killed by—"

"Yeah!" says the little girl. Says the little girl? Fuck! She's— she's bitten through the— she's chewing and spitting root-shreds out! "I'm busy, Lucky! There's a lady in that tree over there! Go kill her!"

They're colluding?! This is what the Hero-Queen gets for shoving you in as a contestant: the rules go right to shit. Sick of distractions, you bare your teeth, raise your hand, and fling the (still root-wrapped) girl above your head. She's as light as you'd expect—

—which makes it baffling when she comes down like a missile, wreathed in flame, though on second hasty glance it's only her sword that's alight. Which isn't much better. No time to sidestep, just to fend her off, throwing up root after root to block her swings (but they slice through), to topple her over (but she stays upright), to pierce her eyes, clog her nose and ears, worm through chinks in her armor, until at last you're able to wrap tight around her ankle and put space between you. "Coward!" says the ferocious little girl. "Well, fine! Monty, you can help if you want!"

You feel it through the ground, the footsteps behind you, and throw up a root wall casually. Too casually: you weren't expecting the power of the thrust, which carries the girl's second(?!) colluder through the wall and his weapon into your back. You feel a distant, distorted pain, and worse a sucking, as roots squirm involuntarily from the wound. It's a moment's concentration to take control of them, to twist them into a powerful spike, and to direct the spike into the colluder's chest, which in a perfect world would send viscera spraying ten feet out. It is a warped and broken world, at least until you're in charge, so the one-armed colluder rolls up and over the spike, then leaps at your back.

"That's a guy who knows how to fight! I mean, Montgomery gets his fucking arm knocked off, and lemme tell ya, he takes it like a champ, an absolute champ, and—"

Shit.

(2/6?)

The little girl cheers as the Hero-Queen's best friend dodges every root you send to block his way, batting some away, bounding over others, and using his momentum to bowl you over. You land heavily, face to the ground. He places a foot on your back. "Who are you?"

"He's an evildoer! He works with Jean Ramsey! That's a dumb question, Monty. Can I kill him, if you don't want to?"

The little girl is ignored. "Monty" grabs your face and tilts it upward. "Do you know what you're wearing? I don't think you know what you're wearing."

The Hero-Queen has a dress code. You are wearing a mask, and stare levelly through the eyeholes. You have lost interest, and patience, with these two— these three? Rumblings of a nearby brawl carry through the soil. In any case, you play the long game, not the short one. Of course you're outmatched against cheaters. The Hero-Queen will discipline them shortly, and you can piss on their ashes— or, worst case, you'll get one or both alone, and good luck to them with that. You're already threaded twenty feet under here.

"He doesn't talk, Monty! He's evil! I guess you can kill him, if you really want, but I thought you didn't want."

"I think if you knew what you're wearing—" "Monty" is forcing his fingers under the mask, or trying to. "—you wouldn't be wearing it."

"It doesn't come off," you say patiently. "But keep trying."

"It's probably magicked! I beat Ramsey magicked it! You can't just take it off, Monty, you need to—"

The little girl's attention is momentarily drawn away: there's a fantastic BANG from 20 feet away, and the creaking sound of a tipping tree, and a man's yell and a woman's scream of anger. As "Monty" shoves his knee into your softening body, the girl tilts her head back and screams, at the top of her lungs, a flood of jagged nonsense. Then she clears her throat. "—I was saying, you need to magic it even more. Here. Watch. [OPEN.]"

The mask falls into two pieces. So do you. The hot cleaving sensation is more than familiar, and you laugh at her idiocy as your body bursts and unfurls.

"Clem," the Hero-Queen said. "Clem. I was thinking. You have the [ROOT] thing going, don't you? Sort of freaky? I was thinking— we could mix it up, but— what if we didn't? Huh? More [ROOT]? What say you?"

You said yes, and now you're this: twenty feet wide, twenty deep, and growing steadily, sending shoots down, runners across, pervading the soil here first before stretching too deep elsewhere. Overconfidence kills. Above, you're careful about cocooning the idiots feet-first, so they can't run, then binding them up from there as tightly as possible, then yanking them both into the ground. You would've liked to have killed them the regular way, honestly. You saw no reason to show all your cards. But they're offering up their juicy nutrients, right on a platter, and are you supposed to decline? Honestly?

(3/6?)

You drag them deep. The smaller idiot is wriggling like crazy. The larger one is still. Maybe he suffocated already. No problem. You send a spray of sharp-tipped taproots toward her, intending to pierce her skin and begin the draining.

By the time they reach, she isn't there. You feel it by the tremors: the little idiot has slipped her bonds like a straitjacket and is kicking— almost swimming— through the soil. Downward, toward the source of you. A tremble runs through your bulk. You need a few seconds to recognize it as fear.

At once you launch into action, throwing everything you have to block her, but she is immovable and undeterrable and headed for you, like she knows where you are. Like she sees it. Her eye. You would flee but are thirty feet wide and deep and rooted— yes— to the spot. The girl reaches and without hesitation plunges into the seat of your mind.

She is not there to say hello. She is not there to kill you, either. That would be easy. The girl is not a girl in your head and, you are retroactively assuming, not outside, either. The horns. If you try at all to get a sense of her, you get an image of something massive, shiny, slippery, scaled. The girl-who-is-a-monster tears around indiscriminately, raking through you for anything and everything, as you cower and try to decipher what went wrong. You did everything correctly, didn't you? You had a plan? You were better-prepared than everybody. Smarter. Sharper. Was there something you missed?

"Yeah. Your buddy. He's super cool. We get the picture." You waved your hand. "Is there anyone else we should know about?"

The Hero-Queen had hesitated, for a fraction of a second, and said: Nope! She hesitated and she lied. You're almost certain she lied. There is no world where she didn't know of the little girl.

So you were the idiot all along. So much for being comfortable. The monster has clawed through your outer mind and is cracking through your inner one. You are squirming, dread-suffused, as your utmost core is prodded around in, seized upon, and pried— as you are pried, achingly— as you—

——————————————

You cough. You're covered in dirt. You're in a crater of sorts. All around you are disgusting fleshy tendrils, unmoving. You are, obviously, CHARLOTTE FAWKINS.

Below you is a man. He is also extremely dirty. He is not a terrifying flesh-tendril-monster, because you managed to snap the Law Jean Ramsey put in him... you think... Richard? Is that what you did?

«Yes.»

Yes! No longer a monster, but definitely still an evildoer, even if he looks really scared right now. You need to ignore that, because you tried not to read his mind too much (yech), but you sure didn't get a good impression. You're about 70% sure he wanted to suck all the blood out of your body. So.

Um, but he's not going anywhere, so you shield your eyes and squint upward. "Monty? It's safe!"

(4/6?)

A shower of dirt on your head: Monty is scrabbling out of the side of the crater. He tries to say something, but starts hacking up a lung. You frown. "...Take your time... are you okay if I kill him?"

"Y— ye—" He manages a grimy thumbs-up. "Get— tok— cghk!"

Get the token! Right. You shake the dirt off The Sword, then tap the evildoer's face with it. "Ahem. I'm going to kill you."

His face has gone vacant. Actually, without the mask and scary tendril powers, he looks awfully ordinary. You sigh. "If you used to be a good person, or something, then sorry. I don't think you were, but maybe Jean Ramsey brainwashed you. I mean, Casey was brainwashed, so... um... but anyways, it's a murder game. Um. So..."

«Do you need help.»

No! You're a grown young lady! You've slain evildoers before!

«While possessed, as I recall.»
«...You did all of the heavy lifting here, Charlie. There isn't anything to be ashamed of. I tried for a considerable length of time to beat a resistance to killing out of you, and I don't believe I ever succeeded.»
«This is something I can do for you. Can I do it?»

...Sure. Fine.

And as soon as you think that, Richard at his lizard desk presses a big red button, or something, and your arms tingle and lift mechanically and bring The Sword down so hard on the man's neck that blood sprays up a whole foot or two feet and clouds and the Sword's point hits something hard and cleaves through. The spine. The man was already slack but goes slacker. You mean the evildoer. Not the man.

=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: FIFTY-TWO=

You are the Herald of the Bright Epoch and don't gag. You do almost turn around and leave before remembering the token, and—

«I can do that too.»

Richard with your hands and Sword slices the token out. You are glad to be wearing gauntlets. Monty has dug himself out, by this point, and is dirty and sports a few bruises but is uninjured otherwise: he climbs down and examines the body. "Looks like you made it quick. Good."

"Mm-hm."

"Are you alright? That was..." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "You have to realize, in the actual Game, nobody is... it's about physical skill. And intelligence."

"Nobody turns into a monster?"

"Depends on the kind. Sorry. Er, yes, nobody turns— I suppose Jean thought she had to spice it up. I'm sorry I wasn't useful."

"Not useful? You tackled him! And messed with his mask, and... you exposed all the monstery stuff, basically, which was his secret vulnerability." You nod sagely. "So don't feel bad at all. The important part is that you're fine. You could breathe underground?"

"I... I suppose the earth was loosely packed."

"Great!" Also, you're underwater, so breathing is at best a fourth or fifth-tier concern. "Okay, then! Everything went great! Let's get out of here!"

(5/6?)

Halfway through your scramble up the crater, you remember Lucky and Hatch and the woman in the tree, and then you scramble much faster. When you emerge, all three of them— woman included— are standing together, wide-eyed, near the lip of the crater. "Ms. Fawkins!" Lucky greets you, then raises his tomahawk and slams it through the head of the woman. She drops like a stone.

=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: FIFTY-ONE=

"Yuck!" Hatch complains. "Seriously?"

Lucky pries the tomahawk out and wipes it on his slacks. You try not to look at the woman's crumpled body. "Excellent work, Ms. Fawkins. We were at an impasse before you provided a sufficient-enough distraction— I was able to make this woman forget our respective roles."

You are really, really, really trying not to look at the body. Or at Lucky's slacks, which might have brains on them. If you don't look, they don't have brains on them. "...Um... you..."

"I assure you, she felt next to nothing. Far more than any of these people deserve. Yours is dead too?"

What if you'd never made up with Lucky? Richard couldn't fix a tomahawk through your skull. You're going to be seeing this in your sleep. "...Yeah..."

"You get used to it," Hatch says unhelpfully.

Lucky nods. "I recommend we resume our previous distances, lest Ms. Ramsey begin to suspect foul play. This meeting was a happy coincidence, but a coincidence all the same. However, I suggest regrouping under the cover of darkness, back near where we started. I don't believe Game-related activity is expected during the dead of night, considering visibility issues, so I doubt the restrictions are policed as vigorously. Let us hope the town has been largely avoided. Ah, Mr. Gewecke— we were just leaving."

Monty has emerged, is dusting himself off. "I think we can skip the formalities at this stage, Duncan. Glad you're upright. Is that fresh?"

The body. "He just killed her!" you hiss.

"See? Skipping the formalities. I think you need the token from that one, too, by the way. Best of luck out there."

To Lucky and Hatch, strolling off. Hatch raises her hand in response. When they're gone, Monty shakes his head slowly. "I think... if Mr. Blaine were a participant in the actual Game... he'd do very well for himself."

"Yeah," you say.

"I also think that we would be best-served by holing up again. Unless you feel invigorated enough to go hunting."

"...No."

"Me neither." He sighs.

——————

>Choices tomorrow! (Sorry)

>>6290691
I like the mini game and have already made it a personal challenge to not use any of the Herald stuff yet so we can totally blindside Ramsey and 301 with it

>>6290699
And refunds will help with that, sweet

>>6290783
So glad we invested in Luckycoin
Did we get Clem’s name when we were in communion? We need to be able to taunt the remaining retainers with the names of their vanquished brethren.

>>6290783
Choices!

>Obviously, Charlotte is unaware that both Base Camp and Lindew's Landing will be more-or-less leveled within the next couple hours, if they aren't already. She will be finding out next update. (Sorry, you're going to have to use your imagination for how it plays out atm. I don't want to space these updates out too much by including one just for a reaction.)

>This will add additional wrinkles to the question of what, exactly, you intend to be doing overnight. So... what do you intend on doing? You have THREE time units (TU) to spend, so pick options that add to three.

>Also, brief reminder of the current COLLATERAL DAMAGE roundup: half of Lindew's Landing is flattened, a big chunk of townspeople are dead, a cave-in has destroyed almost every tent in Camp, a few camp members are dead, Fake Ellery is DEAD, Claudia and Pat are INJURED, Eloise and Annie are SEVERELY INJURED, and all of the survivors are effectively homeless. (To say nothing of various disasters elsewhere.) And there's still a couple rounds to go!

---------


Will you sleep? (PICK ONE FROM THE [A]s.)

>[A1] It's nighttime. You're not sure how you can sleep, after seeing this, but you're afraid you might have to-- a little. Richard can knock you out for a catnap. (0 TU. No buff, no consequences.)
>[A2] No! You have work to do, and a lizard-man with free access to stimulants to help you do it. Pull an all-nighter. (+1 TU-- you now have FOUR total. This could catch up to you later.)
>[A3] You're going to have to be up and at 'em first thing tomorrow morning, and there's still about 1 bazillion evildoers left to slay. As much as you feel terrible not helping more, you need to get proper sleep tonight. (1 TU. Receive a buff during your next REAL FIGHT.)

What on earth is going to happen to the now-homeless residents of Camp and Lindew's Landing? (PICK ONE FROM THE [B]s.)

>[B1] You failed to clear this with the Headspace survivors, so they might be really mad at you. You don't care. Headspace is a giant empty space with existing (imaginary) infrastructure, and Madrigal and Pat, at minimum, are already familiar with how to get there. Evacuate everybody inside. Ramsey won't like that her entire audience has vanished, but you don't like that she destroyed your home, so fair's fair. (3 TU. Ramsey will be annoyed. Survivors will be relatively safe from COLLATERAL DAMAGE, at least initially, but other complications might arise. Unlock [Us] as an ally.)
>[B2] Henry's indicated that he's happy to do just about anything to support you. Does that mean he's happy to host 40+ people in his underground cult hideout? ...Probably? You don't know if everyone will be safe down there, but they'll certainly be safer than they are while out in the open. (2 TU. Ramsey will be annoyed. Survivors will be relatively safe from COLLATERAL DAMAGE, unless it happens underground, or until they're discovered. Unlock [Henry] as an ally.)
>[B3] You hate to seem callous, but this *can't* be your top priority right now. It's too big of a job, and you are, um, not known for your ability to lead crowds. Support whatever plan Madrigal, Monty, and Lucky cook up. (0 TU. I will roll for the effectiveness of whatever the three of them come up with.)
>[B4] Something else? (Write-in. ? TU)


What else will you be up to? (PICK AS MANY AS YOU WANT FROM THE [C]s, AS LONG AS THEY DON'T EXCEED THREE TU-- OR FOUR WITH [A2]. EXCEPT FOR [C1], THESE CAN BE REPEATED.)

>[C1] The arena in Camp is, ironically, one of the few things least-damaged from the cave-in-- but it's still pretty banged-up, and if it falls apart, nothing will stop evildoers from rampaging through the wreckage of the tents. Contribute to the efforts to repair it. (.5 TU. Arena condition is restored to 100%.)
>[C2] You do not, as far as you know, have "healing powers." Will that stop you? Try to do something about your injured allies. (Restore an ally to INJURED if SEVERELY INJURED, or FULL HEALTH if INJURED. 1 TU per ally. Write-in who.)
>[C3] All of your allies are competent and motivated and have already started milling around doing stuff without your instructions. You don't like this one bit. TAKE CHARGE, as is your right as a heroine, and command them to do things. (.5 TU. CHOOSE ONE ally from Monty, Lucky, Earl, Gil, Madrigal, Pat, Eloise, Claudia, or Annie, and give them a task to faithfully carry out. They might be more effective at doing certain things than you'd be, be usable during the Game during the day, or can do personal favors for you, but you won't know until you talk to them. This will unlock new options.)
>[C4] Write-in. (? TU)

Wait a second. What has *Richard* been up to, besides dozing off at his lizard desk and killing people on your behalf? Doesn't he know your entire home just fell into a giant crater? Can't he get up off his nonexistent tail and help you somehow? (PICK ONE from the [D]s. This is a FREE ACTION that does not consume TU, because talking to Richard will take you 30 seconds.)

>[D1] These stupid tokens are letting Jean Ramsey monitor your actions! What the hell! You need to figure out how to get them out of you immediately. Richard claimed he was looking into it, but you need him to look a whole lot harder. (Gain 1/2 progress toward token removal.)
>[D2] Forget the tokens. What about that scary barrier around the Corcass? If you could breach it, you could evacuate everybody perfectly-- because the idiots destroying everything won't be able to leave. Make Richard research this. (Gain 1/2 progress toward barrier breaching.)
>[D3] You know Richard doesn't know how to take the token off, but does he at least have enough of an idea about it to screw with it? Can you beam fake ideas into Ramsey's brain if you concentrate hard enough? Connections always go two ways... (The next time Ramsey would get annoyed, she won't.)
>[D4] Richard. You know there's a lot going on. You know he said it's fine if you die. You have more pressing things to think about. But he doesn't have more pressing things, and he doesn't have an argument against you surviving, assuming you can actually pull it off. Badger him into tinkering with the Recharlottizator. (Slightly improve chances of the Recharlottizator surviving the Wyrm.)
>[D5] Write-in.


---------
>>6290793
>I like the mini game and have already made it a personal challenge to not use any of the Herald stuff yet so we can totally blindside Ramsey and 301 with it
Wonderful. Looking forward to it. I expect two more rounds of it... maybe three... depending on how the collective Game rolls shake out. (Fighting Ramsey will use a more traditional dice system, so more people feel willing to participate, but your remaining perks *will* be factored in.)

>Did we get Clem’s name when we were in communion? We need to be able to taunt the remaining retainers with the names of their vanquished brethren.
If you think hard enough about it, I'll say you can retrieve it, yeah. Why not?

>>6290924
>A1
Want to help but also don’t want to be unable to prevent more collateral
>>6290925
>B4
Trip to Hell?

>C1
>C2 for Eloise and Claudia
>C3
Have Annie start eating scrubs and viable contenders

>D4
Don’t want to die :(

>>6290932
Hell is basically inhospitable for regular people not made of goo or covered in scales-- it's full of boiling-hot water and poisonous gasses. The only viable place to hide out would be underground, potentially in Earl's hamlet of Hellsbells, but it's *really* cramped there and probably can't host 40+ people. If you cooked up a scheme to send survivors multiple locations (one contingent goes to Hellsbells, one contingent goes to the Fen, whatever), it could work, but not solo.

>>6290924
>A3,B2,D1

>>6290924
>[A1] It's nighttime. You're not sure how you can sleep, after seeing this, but you're afraid you might have to-- a little. Richard can knock you out for a catnap. (0 TU. No buff, no consequences.)
>[B3] You hate to seem callous, but this *can't* be your top priority right now. It's too big of a job, and you are, um, not known for your ability to lead crowds. Support whatever plan Madrigal, Monty, and Lucky cook up. (0 TU. I will roll for the effectiveness of whatever the three of them come up with.)
>[C3] All of your allies are competent and motivated and have already started milling around doing stuff without your instructions. You don't like this one bit. TAKE CHARGE, as is your right as a heroine, and command them to do things. (.5 TU. CHOOSE ONE ally from Monty, Lucky, Earl, Gil, Madrigal, Pat, Eloise, Claudia, or Annie, and give them a task to faithfully carry out. They might be more effective at doing certain things than you'd be, be usable during the Game during the day, or can do personal favors for you, but you won't know until you talk to them. This will unlock new options.)
>[D2] Forget the tokens. What about that scary barrier around the Corcass? If you could breach it, you could evacuate everybody perfectly-- because the idiots destroying everything won't be able to leave. Make Richard research this. (Gain 1/2 progress toward barrier breaching.)

>>6290976
You are currently spending 0 TU, anon. Would you like to give instructions to 6 different people? If so, who?

>>6290933
Ok, half to the fen and half to Hellsbells? Might even be better than way as one big hit of collateral won't wipe everyone.

>>6290988
I think all the places you could reasonably send people out to are the Fen (to hang at Branwen's / smuggler contacts), the Mud Flats (to hang with the skimmer camp), Hellsbells (if they take the Headspace shortcut, otherwise it's too far away), Henry's cult hideout, inside Headspace itself, and maybe a handful inside Pat's manse, which has a physical entrance, if she's asked really politely.

If you want to suggest this plan to Madrigal and co. but let them call the shots about who and where, I'll call that 1 TU, Ramsey isn't annoyed (because people are still out and about to "watch"), and some of the characters will remain vulnerable depending on where they end up. If you want to be more strategic about where you put people, that'll be 2 TU, but you can pick a relevant ally (Us, Henry, Real Ellery, or Branwen) to get in touch with and give instructions to. Deal?

>>6290993
Deal - I'll drop Claudia from the heal list to make the time, since she's light injuries compared to Eloise's heavy.

>>6290982
Uhhh sorry. I'll go with:


>[C1] The arena in Camp is, ironically, one of the few things least-damaged from the cave-in-- but it's still pretty banged-up, and if it falls apart, nothing will stop evildoers from rampaging through the wreckage of the tents. Contribute to the efforts to repair it. (.5 TU. Arena condition is restored to 100%.)
>[C3] All of your allies are competent and motivated and have already started milling around doing stuff without your instructions. You don't like this one bit. TAKE CHARGE, as is your right as a heroine, and command them to do things. (.5 TU. CHOOSE ONE ally from Monty, Lucky, Earl, Gil, Madrigal, Pat, Eloise, Claudia, or Annie, and give them a task to faithfully carry out. They might be more effective at doing certain things than you'd be, be usable during the Game during the day, or can do personal favors for you, but you won't know until you talk to them. This will unlock new options.)
>I'll +1 the other anon's choice of having Annie look around >>6290932

I'll add on

>[C2] You do not, as far as you know, have "healing powers." Will that stop you? Try to do something about your injured allies. (Restore an ally to INJURED if SEVERELY INJURED, or FULL HEALTH if INJURED. 1 TU per ally. Write-in who.)
for Eloise

>[A3] You're going to have to be up and at 'em first thing tomorrow morning, and there's still about 1 bazillion evildoers left to slay. As much as you feel terrible not helping more, you need to get proper sleep tonight. (1 TU. Receive a buff during your next REAL FIGHT.)

I'll support another C3 to fill the remaining 0.5 TU if anyone has any other ideas.

Rolled 3 (1d3)

Alright, folks, let's do this.

>>6290932
>>6290976
>>6291076
>>6291098

I'm going to call it for the [B4] write-in (1 TU), since it's not far off [B3] in cost and is better otherwise. You're welcome.

You will be catnapping (0 TU), and, between >>6290932 and >>6291098, downgrading Eloise from SEVERELY INJURED to INJURED, fixing the arena, and talking to Annie. (Poor Annie, sent to hunt while also SEVERELY INJURED...)

[D] will be rolled for between [D1], [D2], and [D4] in that order.

Writing shortly.

>Aftermath

You and Monty spend a while in the tree, doing little but listening to distant noises— and startling simultaneously whenever a death-announcement blasts in. You don't ever get used to them, but you come to appreciate them, because they stop you from lapsing too deep into thought. You don't like what you have available to think about. Richard?

«Yes, Charlie. I am still working on it. I am simultaneously conducting final preparations for your transmission into Satellite. It is too much to juggle at once.»

Good God, Satellite still hasn't happened for him? You're only a couple days away from—

«Perhaps it looked simple to you when it occurred. This is because my preparation will have paid off, not because preparation was unnecessary. I have been working as rapidly as I can.»
«I believe I will be able to accomplish it, from your perspective, tonight. If #301 is removed shortly thereafter, that is good enough. After that, I will be available to investigate the 'tokens.'»

Okay, that's good. But you weren't even asking about the tokens. You just said "Richard."

«...»

You think it'd be more useful if he thought about the Recharlottizator, not the tokens. He's really smart, isn't he? And he knows more about the Wyrm than both of the Ellerys put together? Shouldn't he—

«Charlie.»

'Charlie' nothing! You're shocked this wasn't his first instinct! He spent all that time moaning about how you probably definitely needed to die, and you proposed an easy way you could maybe not die, and, what, he's not interested anymore? Wasn't his whole job supposed to be making sure you don't die? Was that a lie like the rest of them?

«That was never my job.»

Okay, so it was a lie. He wants you to die. It makes sense! The Wyrm loves betrayal, and Richard, horrible evil Wyrmspawn, loves it too. He dragged you all this way, all through everything, specifically so he could betray you at the very, very end. At least he's being honest.

«I am being honest. My task was, and always was, to achieve the dawning of the Bright Epoch. You were the only one capable of accomplishing this, so the task would be failed if you died. The death you're discussing must necessarily come after the Bright Epoch, so nothing is failed. In fact, I myself am dead already. My job is complete.»
«My personal feelings about your death are irrelevant.»

His personal feelings: giddiness?

«No. You are blowing this out of proportion. I expected better from you.»
«In fact, I believe you're already aware of my personal feelings, and you are attempting to bait validation out of me to assuage your unhappiness toward the immediate future. Is that correct.»

Blah, blah, blah. Using big words doesn't make him smart.

«I was 'really smart' not three minutes ago. Charlie.»
«I will not rehash our previous conversations. You are clearly emotional.»

About dying!

(1/5)

«Yes.»
«Once you assume the role of the eternal Herald, you may feel differently. I hope this is the case.»
«In the meantime, I will reconfirm that my personal feelings are as follows. I do not desire your death. If you were to die while I were alive, I would experience extreme negative emotions. I consider myself fortunate that I will not be.»
«I am reticent to promote any alternatives because I wish to avoid granting false hope. Your scheme with the device— it relies on the Wyrm's foolishness, or else incapability. The Wyrm has neither. It is God. You <must> assume the device will ultimately be destroyed.»

That's not positive, Richard.

«Forget 'positive.' You cannot bend your will against the Wyrm's. You cannot. I cannot. Its Law is implacable. Only It can change Its own course, and if you become It— that is why the contigency exists and is being discussed. I am being earnest.»
«If I were to devote one thousand years to producing a device that could, under all circumstances, withstand the Wyrm's full might, I could not.»

He's not doing that, so that's great. And you aren't him.

«Both of those things are true. Charlie, I am not stopping you. But you must treat any prospect of that device's survival as a rarity, not a certainty.»
«If I were to devote a thousand years, I might place odds of success at 30%. Or less. Skyrocket the odds to account for your obscene luck; plummet them to account for a lack of a millenia. 30%, 25%, 20%, 15%. I do not factor in odds of side-effects or unexpected outcomes, owing to the device's shoddy origins, and any actions you might eventually undertake in desperation.»
«I should note that all of this assumes the contingency is necessary. It may not be.»

What? You're sorry. Did he just say you had 30% odds of survival? Huh? Not .00001%? 30%? Is that not a lot? 30%! All you need to is flip a three-headed coin!

«It may be half that. It may be a fraction. Do <not> count on—»

30%! Geez! You were worried for nothing! He was getting all annoying and stubborn about that? Can he just go ahead and help out now? You don't care about stupid tokens. Maybe he can boost those odds right up to 35%? 40%?

«It doesn't work like that.»

But he can help, right? Once he's done with Satellite, he won't be working on anything else useful? He now has literally no reason to turn you down?

«Charlie—»

Literally no reason!

«Charlie, I—»
«I suppose I will not be present— if it fails. I will not bear witness to your disappointment. I will be dead and feel nothing.»
«I will conduct a cursory examination of the device and correct any obvious flaws. That is all you can hold me to. Are we in agreement.»

Duh? Yes? Does he realize thar talking to him's like pulling teeth? God, you feel so much better— the knot in your chest, up and evaporated. 30%! Why didn't he say so sooner?

«I feared you would react in such a way.»

(2/5)

Bah! He should go live in Gil's head, so the two of them can be negative together. (There's a reason you haven't told Gil.) God, you're getting a second wind, almost. You could go off and slay some evildoers right now! You really could! Even if it's getting darker. You're grinning so hard that, even through his half-dozing, Monty notices. "Charlotte? ...Do you have good news?"

Not exactly relevant to him. "Sort of? Don't worry about it! Do you think we should—"

=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: FORTY-THREE.=
=CONTESTANTS REMAINING: FORTY-TWO.=
=CONTESTANTS REMAI—=

Geez! Something's happening! Is that what that big rumble was? You thought the tree shook a little, but it could be a stray current. "—should get going? My legs are getting cramped, and—"

Monty has blanched, is standing. "Where did that come from?"

"...I don't know?" The Herald of the Bright Epoch doesn't have super-hearing, and you aren't on the ground to feel the vibrations. "Why? Do you have an idea? Monty? Hey!"

Monty, trident in hand, has leapt from the tree and is taking off sprinting. "Wait! Where are you—"

Richard! Where is he going?!

«South.»
«The way you came.»

The way you came? Back towards town? Or Camp? Wait. Oh, God.

«I recommend you follow.»

So you do: though Monty has a head start, you shut your eyes and barrel after him, navigating by strings alone. He's fast, and you're fast, and neither of you stop— but you were a good ways into the Fen, and it feels like eternity before you emerge. It's been fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty.

You followed Monty, and Monty headed straight for Base Camp. God knows how he knew what happened. You were turning over the possibilities, as you ran, but none of them really prepared you for seeing it: there is no camp.

That's your initial impression, anyways. A second look reveals the damage. The former center of Camp, cleared out for the arena, is still in place: you spot sticky wads of blood all over it, some fencing knocked down, some debris scattered around, but it's recognizable. Not so for the rest. The outskirts of Camp, where all the tents were diligently moved to, is a furrow, plowed by something massive, and a crater. Much bigger than the one you and stupid Tendrils-Man made. (Your glory stolen. Just kidding. You shouldn't even say that.)

All the tents must be at the bottom of the crater. All the people—

But no, as you jog near, the people are not all at the bottom of the crater. A whole lot are gaggled around. A few are crawling out, or being helped out, or are picking their way down to help. They're not all dead! This is a good thing. Really good. Yes.

(3/5)

You don't think you're processing this very well. It doesn't make sense that you'd leave in the afternoon to a perfectly functional camp and come back to rubble. You need to stop and breathe and talk to someone, and that someone can explain. Probably Madrigal, if she isn't dead. Where's Madrigal? Do you see Madrigal? There she is. Monty, sweat-soaked, found her first. You watch them embrace tightly. Um, okay. You wait for them to stop doing that, then approach.

"Holy shit. Charlotte." Madrigal is muddy, but appears to have all her limbs in working order. This is a positive. Her voice is raw, though, like maybe she's spent the last 20 minutes yelling at people. "You're here too. Shouldn't you be— fuckin'— murdering, or—"

That's her first concern? "What happened?!"

"Fuck if I know! Fuck! There was just—" She rubs her face in circles. "We were watching two chucklefucks go at it, in the arena, but I don't think they— there was this rumble— and this giant fucking bleeding motherfucking WORM comes outta the ground, right over there, and— the ground just— all the tents— holy shit, Monty— I'm okay. I'm fine. Nothing happened. But a lotta people weren't— they were right here when the fucking sinkhole—"

"It's not your fault," Monty says patiently.

"I'm the one who moved the fucking tents over! That was my genius idea!"

"It's not your fault. How many are dead."

"At least four. We're still pulling out— and anybody who fell's fucked up. Broken bones, and— Eloise broke her— I don't fucking know what. A lot of things. She's in a lot of fucking pain. We have her lying down, because there's nothing—"

"Is she bleeding out?" Monty is infuriatingly calm. "If she's not bleeding out, she'll be fine in a week, Mads. Everybody will be fine in a week. Tents can be replaced. Jean will be gone by then."

You weren't sure when a good time to interject would be. "Yeah! Because I'm going to— she'll pay for this! And everything else! I'm going to cut her head off!"

"See? Charlotte is going to cut her head off, and it'll be richly deserved. We have a lot to look forward to. Where's Ellery?"

Madrigal's laugh is more of a bark.

"...Can you elaborate on that?"

"He's— shit, Monty, he's— you climb down there, and he— his legs are just—" She laughs more and harder. "There's this boulder, and his legs are just sticking out, like— his skinny fucking legs—"

"He's dead?!" Damnit! You hope he got his Recharlottizer work done quick.

(4/5)

"For two days! Then he's going to wander back out, naked as a fucking baby, and he'll look at the fucking sinkhole, and— you know that expression he—" God, she's practically crying from laughing. "He'll be— he'll be so— he'll be so fucking surprised, and then I get to tell him a rock fell on his dumbass head and squished him! He got squished!"

"Sounds about right," Monty offers.

"Yes! Yes, it sounds—" Madrigal wipes her eyes. "He's such a fucking dipshit. Charlotte, I— sorry— are you sure it's okay you're here? I don't want Ramsey to swoop down and blast us 'cause you're—"

"Madrigal?" you say.

"Uh-huh?"

"What do you think a sworn heroine does? Do you need help getting people out of there? I can probably carry... or, wait." Something, at last, has processed. "There was a worm?"

"I don't fucking know, Charlotte. It looked like a worm. It made that whole big—" She gestures to the whole of the furrow. "Maybe it's still in there? Did Ramsey make a worm play the Game? Because otherwise, I have no clue what... unless some asshole was banging around underground and woke it up?"

Where did you leave Annie last? You're trying to remember. It wasn't under Camp, was it? The big tunnels she dug didn't destabilize the ground around here... did they? No! Whoever's fault this was, it wasn't Annie's! She's an innocent! And did Madrigal say the worm was bleeding, earlier? You need to—

But wait. Eloise is badly injured too, and she— she might not be your best worm friend, but she has been really nice to you, even if she laughs too much. And Madrigal might think you're weird if you dash off to see a worm. Ugh! Wat do?

>It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to send Annie hunting while she's SEVERELY INJURED. Would you like to heal her down to INJURED instead of Eloise?

>[1] Yes, switch option [C2] to heal Annie instead of Eloise, then talk to Annie to reveal more options. Eloise will remain SEVERELY INJURED.
>[2] No, keep option [C2] as is. Annie can still hunt while SEVERELY INJURED, but may be at more risk / be less effective.
>[3] Replace fixing the arena and talking to Annie with two [C2]s, and choose to heal both Annie and Eloise. You won't be able to send Annie hunting (or do other things with her) overnight, but you can take her with you next daytime round if desired.

>>6291213
>2
She’s a giant worm and we’re only sending her after scrubs. Worst case we’ve already revived her once.

>>6291213
>>[2] No, keep option [C2] as is. Annie can still hunt while SEVERELY INJURED, but may be at more risk / be less effective.

>>6291213
>[2] No, keep option [C2] as is. Annie can still hunt while SEVERELY INJURED, but may be at more risk / be less effective.

>>6291421
>>6291616
>>6291622
>Keep the same
Truly, anons are harsh taskmasters. Writing.

>Worm neglected </3

You waver. Of course Annie matters to you, but... Madrigal only said she saw blood, and do you even know it was Annie's? Maybe she helpfully killed an evildoer! No evidence either way. Meanwhile, unless Madrigal was lying for no reason, all of Eloise's bones are presently smashed to powder. Maybe you can't do anything about that, but you ought to check.

"Yeah," you say after a beat. "Maybe... where's Eloise?"

"On a cot. We dredged one outta the sinkhole." Madrigal gestures towards what looks like half a tent. "You can say hi, but don't make her get up! And don't make her talk if she's not up to it! Monty, don't go along. How long are you allowed to stay? We need to talk—"

"If Jean tries to keep me out of here, I'm beating Charlotte to the head-chopping. I don't care about—"

"I don't care if you fucking care. Are a dozen assholes gonna blast us outta the sky if you and Charlotte stay? Because the whole point of—"

You'll let them work it out. Eloise's "tent," the only surviving structure anywhere nearby, is immediately spottable: it's more of a lean-to than anything else, constructed from tent canvas and a few big sticks. Your campmates have been industrious. A haggard-looking Courtier is guarding the lean-to, but takes one look at you and steps aside. Where's all his friends? Aren't there a couple dozen of them loitering around, post-reinforcements? Whatever.

Eloise tries to rise when you enter, but you step next to the cot so she doesn't have to. She's definitely still alive. More good news. She has a greyish pallor, though, which contrasts with her red-purple bruises and sticky pink scratches. The surface wounds are being healed already, as they always are.

If only it were surface wounds. Somebody has loosened Eloise's blue cloak, which lays around her like a shroud: underneath it her clothes are basic and her body is ordinary. Her right arm is badly bent at both the wrist and elbow. Her chest is sunken and rises shallowly. Congealed blood stains her whole short.

Her eyes track you. "Well... look who it is. Hi, kid. Slay any... any... evildoers yet? Heh."

"One," you say uncomfortably, "but he was— he was one of Jean Ramsey's vile lackies. So he was important. And they were all busy killing each other, anyways."

"And us." Eloise coughs. "Guess that's how it goes, huh? The chips fall where they... may. And I, uh, fell... 40 feet... or something. Onto rock. Could be worse. Did they tell you about Ell—?"

"He got squished?"

"Poor guy. Can't go a week without... but he'll be back, huh? Happy ending. If I had a boulder dropped on me, I'd be... pssh... paste? Yeah. Paste. And look at me instead, huh? Doing... good. Great! Agh." She coughs again. "Give me a week, and I'll be turning... cartwheels. So don't pay me attention."

(1/lots)

You don't know about cartwheels, but Eloise isn't lying: if she doesn't bleed out, isn't poisoned, and keeps her head firmly attached to her shoulders, even nasty injuries will stitch together in a week, two maximum. (For normal people. Not you. Thanks, Richard.) Her long-term prospects are fine, and you're sure the water has soothed a lot of the possible pain, which is why she's still conscious without pills.

Still. "A lot of the possible pain" leaves a whole lot of pain left to go, and you're not sure how relevant "long-term prospects" are when the entire region remains swarmed with evildoers. You fold your arms. "Can't I want to pay attention? Can you stand up?"

"Eh..." She tilts her head from side to side, then winces. "...Work in progress..."

"You can't stand?" You knew it! "What if some horrible villain drops by and explodes everything again?! How will you escape?!"

"Pssh... one of those beefy Courtier kids... can pick me up and carry me on their back. Heh-heh."

She can't be serious. "You can't rely on—"

"Then I'll die. What do you want me to say? Unless you've got... some magic crap up your sleeve... I gotta..." She trails off. "What?"

You don't have healing powers. Right? You can make things happen, but they usually only happen to you, or things, not other people. Even if you do things to other people, they rarely stick. There's no logical reason to believe you could...

But couldn't the Wyrm heal people, if it wanted to? If it can bring them back to life, fixing their injuries is peanuts. And you will be the Wyrm. Are already, sort of, abstractly the Wyrm. And you are definitely the Herald, who doesn't have healing powers either, but who's sort of generally helpful? Who brings people hope?

You swallow, then wave your hand around. "Woosh."

"...Heh. Funny one. Your magic crap... will take effect... in a week, probably."

"Huh? No. Nobody will hear us." You glance back at the unaware Courtier. "I don't want to make this a whole thing. You know I'm going to save the entire world, right?"

"...From Ramsey? Good for you. Kick her ass."

"No! I mean, yes, but— she's not even important. The Wyrm's going to end the world. God is. I forget if I've told you that. Except it won't, because, um— oh! Management is lizard people! I forget if I told you that too. It doesn't matter, I just thought you might want to know... oh. I'm going to be God."

It doesn't matter if she tells everybody, because it's not like it'll change anything. "So I might have magyck powers," you continue, "but you need to trust me... okay?"

Eloise processes. Then she coughs. "Kid—"

"Yeah?"

"—this is so far above my pay grade— that it isn't— dammit." Her face contorts. Maybe the cough tweaked something. "It isn't funny. But I... I thought the air changed... when you came in."

"That would be my magyck aura," you say usefully.

(2/lots)

"Your aura. You're so silly. Never stopped being... silly. Ngh. Can you... shoot fire out of your...?" She lifts her left hand a little.

No! You can't! You really did try! Richard completely failed you. "Um, if I did, it would burn the lean-to down? Why would I do that? Focus! And think about getting better, okay? I'm going to try really hard."

"Mkay. ...Thinking."

"Great!"

It would've been far cooler and mysteriouser if you could've waved your hands and cured Eloise, but she laughs at you too much— if she laughed at you waving your hands, everything would be ruined. Better to get her on board. Now you need to do the same for you.

You can do it. You've done it, once or twice, for practice, but it unsettled you too much to keep going. You'll suck it up for this. It goes like this: before you found Claudia in the depths of your mind, she was hanging on a rack, and you could wear her like a coat. She's off that rack now, off doing God-knows what God-knows-where, but something's replaced her.

You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and slide the Herald on. You open your eyes and are not yourself.

Or: you are. Your name is Charlotte Fawkins. But you are Charlotte Fawkins through the wrong side of the telescope, shunted, dislocated, badly fitted into here, and the name rings distant to you, nostalgic, though you've never had any other. You know you've never had any other. You know you are not the Herald— yet, until the ritual is incomplete— and never have been.

And you are the Herald, and always have been, and have lived this already, even as it's occurring. Have lived everything as it's been occurring always. As a divine eternal lizard-thing, you are immune to headaches, but this will not transfer to your past-and-present self. So you better get moving.

Attempting to ignore your cramped quarters, you peer over Eloise, who peers back. "What's the gameplan? Gonna... shoot a bone-fixing beam at me? Will you glow? Ha-ha. Ow."

No. Gil can keep his beams and glows. You have remembered what was wrong with Eloise, and now you press against the stunted confines of this body until your view is unobstructed. Now you see Eloise broken on the cot— and Eloise plummeting, and her watching the skirmish in Camp's new arena, and her at the Better Than Nothing, and at the meeting with Monty and Lucky and you, and on and on. And you see—

You don't see Eloises stretching forward. Not ad-hoc, not stuck like this: Charlotte Fawkins doesn't know the future. But you don't need the future. You glance once more at present-Eloise, then find her, unbroken, seconds before she hit rock. Good enough. You pluck that one out, stretch her until she's pliable, bend down, and press her down onto present-Eloise until the two inevitably combine.

Eloise, face drawn, sits bolt upright. You opt to slit your skin and be nothing other than Charlotte Fawkins.

(3/lots)

Ow! Ow! Who has a splitting— Richard! You need drugs! Headache drugs! Now!

«Thank you for asking so very politely, Charlie.»

You receive drugs and uncontort your forehead. God! That'll be you? In just a few days?

«I think it's more accurate to say that, in a few days, 'days' will cease to become a relevant concept. From what I can extrapolate.»

Okay. Err. Eloise, still upright, is squeezing her arm. She's still superficially bruised and scratched, so maybe not perfectly fixed, but it's nothing to sneeze at. "You're welcome," you say.

"..." She prods her chest. "...Planning to explain any of that?"

You have no idea what she even saw happen. "Um, it's magyck. I said I'm going to be God. Did I get everything?"

"Eh... my arm's a little shonky, still, but... boy, Charlotte, I'd like to get you in the lab." She picks her cloak up from around her and tugs it back on. "I know it'll never happen, but I think you'd advance... more than a few subspecialties. If you're God, maybe you can stop by sometime. Ha. Can I walk? Lessee."

She can walk, though not too fast. (Maybe she needs to regain her strength.) "Okay! Well! Guess no villains will be exploding me, or whatever you were worried about. Robbing me of a perfectly good piggyback ride... ah, well. I'm joking. What's happened to our friend?"

The Courtier standing guard has deserted his post. Actually, now that you squint, a lot of people have vanished. Fallen down another sinkhole? Surely not. "Maybe you better check," Eloise prompts. "I think... I deserve a nap! Let's say the water rejuvenated me while I was asleep, okay? Wink?"

She said 'wink' aloud. You're not really sure why she wants to keep it secret, given everybody important knows you're God, but maybe she wants to save you from perpetual "fixing-everybody's-booboos" duty. You'll take it. "Um," you say. "Wink."

"Fantastic. And, er— I don't know if you need it— but good luck out there, kid. Seriously. I've always been rooting for you."

You smile lopsidedly and head off.

————

Everybody's gone because Lucky is here: Lucky and a huge contingent of new arrivals. Some of them are the missing Courtiers. Some of them are from Lindew's Landing. One of them is Claudia. She looks like she's been crying.

Unlike the Herald, you can't be everywhere at once, so you're forced to prioritize. Claudia is a bright young lady who will figure her own problems out. Madrigal, Monty, and (sigh) Lucky are pretty bright too, but their problems are bigger. "Ms. Fawkins." Lucky has a dark smear on his slacks where he wiped the brains earlier. Damnit! You looked! "Are you aware of the present situation?"

"Um... giant sinkhole... entire Camp gone... Ellery's dead?"

(4/lots)

"You are not aware. The town of Lindew's Landing is three-fifths obliterated. The remaining structures are residential, while the destroyed structures include the tavern and the general store. Due to the circumstances, the wreckage was unable to be searched, but at least eight residents are unaccounted for. These include the proprietors of said tavern and store, if you are familiar with either."

...Jacques is dead? And your steadfast secret admirer, the general store guy? The Better Than Nothing is flinders?

You have been rendered too sturdy. Whatever's boiling inside you can't splash out. But you think you'll be killing Jean Ramsey very, very, very dead. "Um," you say. "Yes. I'm familiar."

"Condolences. Additionally, several of my men and women were killed while attempting to prevent this tragedy, which was caused by a squabble between several contestants. Not to worry, Ms. Fawkins: they are already disposed of." Lucky sports a ghost of a smile. "But not before the outcome I relayed."

"The Court has rounded up whatever survivors they could find. As you can see." Monty indicates the crowd. "We have always existed in cooperation with Lindew's Landing, but now... we're really in this together. Maybe we'll forge new friendships. I don't know."

He sounds really tired. "We'll forge new friendships," Madrigal interjects, "while getting everyone the fuck out of here. Your fucking cunt friend plopped her stage in the middle of town, and wow! Town burns down! And we fall into a fucking hole! And now we're sat out in the open, and nobody has anywhere to sleep. And it's getting dark."

"Ms. Fitzpatrick, the Court is pledged to defend the innocent from the encroaches of the unnatural. As the events of this day have indicated, this pledge has never been so relevant. You will not be abandoned to the darkness. If necessary, a bonfire will be lit, and—"

"I don't think you understand, Lucky! We are getting OUT of here! You light a fucking bonfire, whatever, that's great, and then some asshole with a magic COCK strolls in, splooges all over our VULNERABLE FUCKING SLEEPING BODIES, and then—"

"The metaphor's out of control, Mads."

"I will use whatever metaphor I goddamn well please! The dark is the LEAST of our— our— we need somewhere to go, NOW. We need to toss everyone into fucking Headspace so they'll melt. Can't burn us down if we're all fucking melted, right?!"

"Ms. Fitzpatrick," Lucky says warningly, "such a cure would be worse than the—"

"I'm KIDDING! Take a fucking joke! Oh, right, you—"

"Charlotte," Monty says.

You truly never know when to cut in. "Uh-huh?"

"You've been staying somewhere else much of the time. This last month or two. Is it somewhere that could host evacuees?"

(5/lots)

...Henry's hideout? Actually, maybe. It's pretty big in there. But... it's all underground, too. What if it wasn't Annie that caused the sinkhole, but a different, evil worm? And the evil worm attacked the hideout? Everybody would die!

He could also mean Branwen's place, but she can't support more than a couple people, unless they sleep outside. Earl's, ditto. (Where is Earl? And Gil? You hope they're okay.) Hellsbells, as cramped as it is, could host maybe 10. Where else? New-Headspace, but not inside the goo? Maybe some people could stash their unconscious bodies and hide in other manses? There's a lot of options. None of them are perfect.

But, collectively, maybe they're good enough? You tell Monty that. Maybe it's important to spread everybody out, so if disaster strikes, again, it won't be cataclysmic. Maybe people could pick where they wanted to hide, or they could just make groups and order them. It might be easier to order them. The Courtiers would be good at that. You can help—

"No way," Madrigal says. "Fuck off."

You're genuinely wounded, though you keep a stiff upper lip. "Um, why? I thought I was— I'm good at making plans, and—"

«You are not.»

Shut up! Madrigal is shaking her head. "Doesn't matter. Do you remember you're supposed to be murdering people?"

You did forget. A little. "But I could stay up and—"

"So you get worse at murdering people? You fall asleep and somebody bashes your unprotected skull in? Leave the logistics to the fucking logistics people. The fucking logistics people is me." She shoves Monty's shoulder. "These two assholes are also supposed to be murdering people, by the way, so—"

"This is more important," Monty says tightly. "By an order of magnitude."

"Yeah!" you say. "By an order of—"

"No. Duncan and I are here by obligation. He may find further enjoyment in it; I do not. But neither of us need to 'win,' or even survive, the Game. You do."

"I will! Geez!"

"Then you will get some sleep. Mads is absolutely right." Monty rubs his eye. "We— we have more experience managing these things, too. Please trust us."

"I'm not even tired," you say sourly.

The other three exchange glances. You don't like the glances. "Then," Monty says at last, "wear yourself out, if you want. Round up a group to fix up the arena with you. We need to make it as attractive as possible, so people fight on top of it and not our salvageable belongings. If that doesn't appeal to you, get some sleep. I'm sure Jean will rouse us bright and early."

Ugh! "Fine! I will fix it. I'll fix it the best— the best anyone's ever fixed it."

"I look forward to seeing it."

You raise your lip and march off.

—

————

The arena gets fixed. It's boring work, and everybody you round up is tearstained or in shock, but having a clear goal helps boost their moods. Yours too: you forget your grievances. Did you actually want to stay up the entire night sorting out which people go where, and when, and who goes with them? If Monty wanted you to sleep, he shouldn't have kicked you out— you would've conked out then and there, standing up. Ha.

Eventually you do prepare to sleep. Not in your tent. Your tent, and everything but the clothes on your back (and The Sword, and the tine of the Crown by your heart), is in a big hole. All your models are in a big hole. Thank God you didn't start a new one, you guess. In a few days, you can sort though the big hole and put everybody's things back where they were, but for now, it's your job to find a safe place to sleep.

"Hi, pretty girl," you coo.

With Annie? Of course with Annie. New instincts have driven you to a dark and deep place, and nowhere is darker and deeper than your favorite worm's furrow-turned-tunnel. Annie, a strong-but-silent type, does not acknowledge your greeting, nor your stroking of her powerful outer jaws.

She seems lethargic, actually. Was Madrigal right? Is she injured? You scoot along the tunnel's, and Annie's, side. Oh, God! She is wounded: there's a ginormous bloody gash here, so big there's worm guts hanging out of it. Annie! Tragic, innocent Annie! You briefly contemplate re-Heralding— could you fix it?!— then dismiss the idea as untenable. Poor, poor, poor Annie. Is she in pain? You're scared to commune and find out.

You ought to, though. You owe it to her. If you callously leave her be, you'll never forgive yourself— and maybe you can encourage her to take revenge! You can learn the culprit! Unless that'd put her at worse risk? Oh, God. Decisions.

>The eponymous decisions will come... tomorrow! (Sorry (again) (I don't think I'll take as long to post them this time) (if you ever try writing these things at 4 AM you'll understand))

>>6291833
>Jacques is dead? And your steadfast secret admirer, the general store guy? The Better Than Nothing is flinders?
Aaah no Jacques and uh Roscoe? aren’t dead they’re just not found yet!

File: roscoe 35.5.png (912 KB, 1548x1594)

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>>6291835
Decisions! (I was originally going to bundle decision-making for Day 2 of the Game in here, but then I realized that the next update would just be rolls for who kills who, so I'll bundle it in tomorrow instead.)

>What will you task your intelligent and beautiful worm with doing overnight?

>[1] What she does best: indiscriminately killing and eating large mammals. Anybody roaming about the Fen at this hour is bound to be an evildoer, so it should be simple enough to snap them up and call it a day. (Annie will roll for 2d3 random targets from among the Game survivors, excluding your allies. Her POWER LEVEL while SEVERELY INJURED is 10. Standard rules apply from there)
>[2] Annie is really good at sensing movement, but not so good when her targets are stationary -- which is a bummer, considering that a lot of evildoers will be asleep. Still, it'd be much safer if she went after defenseless targets. Maybe you can tell her to take her time? (Annie will roll for 1d3 sleeping targets from among the Game survivors, excluding your allies. Sleeping targets are KILLED if their POWER LEVEL is below 15, or wake up and KILL ANNIE if their power level is 15 or above.)
>[3] No! She's wounded! It's far too risky to send her to attack. You're more curious about the spooky barrier Jean Ramsey's put up. Does it extend underground? Can it be weakened if, say, a gorgeous 20-ton predatory worm slammed into it a bunch? Only experimentation can find out. (Gain 1/2 progress toward barrier breaching.)
>[4] Resting and regaining her strength. You don't want to send Annie out on her own: you want her with you, tomorrow, slaying evildoers as a team. (Gain ANNIE as your TEAMMATE. ANNIE will contribute power in FIGHTS and be immune to random targeting, but you're barred from picking any other TEAMMATE. Jean Ramsey will be amused.)
>[5] Write-in? (Subject to veto.)

>>6291862
Yeah, Roscoe. (We know his name from CODICIL. Charlotte, who hasn't experienced CODICIL yet, probably heard it out loud, like, once, then promptly forgot. Poor Roscoe.)

And yes! I'm sure they're fine! Ignore all rolls that say "a bunch of people died"!

>>6292149
>3
This might be better if she can't differentiate
I figured her animal instincts would let her exclusively hit the weak ones

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>>6292158
Well... she's a worm... she can distinguish between sizes of prey based on their vibrations, and can maybe sense blood if she's poking her head up out of the ground, but she doesn't have any way to sort ordinary humans from Crown-supercharged humans unless you're right there pointing them out to her. Her brain isn't that big.

>>6292172
Actually, I'll tell you what: Annie will hunt down and kill 2d3 contestants with POWER LEVELS 5 or under *if* you follow along and vet them for her. This means you won't get any sleep, though, which could have ramifications later. I'll call it option #5.

>>6292182
Ugh no
At that point we might as well do it ourselves

>>6292149
>[1] What she does best: indiscriminately killing and eating large mammals. Anybody roaming about the Fen at this hour is bound to be an evildoer, so it should be simple enough to snap them up and call it a day. (Annie will roll for 2d3 random targets from among the Game survivors, excluding your allies. Her POWER LEVEL while SEVERELY INJURED is 10. Standard rules apply from there)