We are so fucking back B^)

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“Yes, my lady?” You bow excessively, your armor clicking and clacking against itself and the ground. The soon to be Queen furrows her brow, you always enjoy annoying Her Majesty, if only slightly, for you wonder if there was any expression of hers that you could not love. Something that would allow you to latch on and slowly but surely erode this burning feeling in your heart.

“Someone will try to kill me today.”

You raise an inquisitive eyebrow as you straighten yourself. The princess is tall, taller than most women, but you are taller, taller than most anybody. It was the blood of the dragoons, of course. “Do you truly think so?” You ask.

“I know so.” She affirms as her eyes dig deep into yours. “I even know who it is, and when they would strike.”

“Tell me who they are then, I will take care of it quickly and silently before a fuss is made.” You reply.

“No.” She states. “You will not. The man will attack during my approach to the throne. You will kill him then and in the most spectacular of manners.”

“A rather unwise approach, my lady.” You observe. “If I were to err, or if the assassin were to be particularly skilled, your blood would be on the precious red carpet your family so adores.”

“You will not err. Though I will say the assassin is particularly skilled.” She indicates. “A blinker.”

Oh, by the dragons’ souls. You take your gloved hand to your forehead, scratching an itch with the metal of your gauntlet as it descends all across your face, dragging the skin down in irritation. Blinkers are also part of a bloodline, an underground one, full of thieves and assassins, their ability is to Blink. To teleport from one spot to another nearby spot in an instant. Not good news.

“Milady, if I may insist on my earlier proposition…”

“I have a message to send.” She says. “To all my courtly detractors, to all those who prefer to have no monarch, to assassins who seek a grand recompense: I am not to be trifled with.” Her agate eyes grew redder by the second. “I will be their Queen, whether they want it or not.”

Her passion makes your heart skip a beat as it often does. You simply nod. The strength of her unabated determination is enough to convince you.

“Save me then, oh brave knight of mine.” She taunts with a soft voice, her pursed lips turning into a devious smirk, a line appearing by her smile.

You bring a hand to your face and hide your reddened cheeks from her domineering gaze. This is also one of the things she enjoys doing. Much to your shame, you cannot help but enjoy it too.

“In any case, you may enjoy the initial gala as you wish, I do not want you trailing behind me like a guard dog. I want my foes to know that I know when they wish to strike me.”

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With that, she twirls away from you and begins her walk down the hall, her heels clacking against the stone ground upon which she refused to put a carpet of any kind. The monarch must be cold, she often told you, and their castle must be too. You put on your Drake Helmet, grab your lance, which patiently stood against the wall’s marble, and follow your mistress.

The gala is any other gala you went to. The sight of grand dresses and ostentatious uniforms, the sound of noble voices politicking, delighting themselves on small bites of food and wine far more expensive than the lives of the servants swiftly walking and dodging to and fro, the smell of fragrant perfumes crossing the exposed rooms of the castle’s lower levels, where windows of magnificent stained glass were open to let the fresh air course into the packed salon.

You’re thankful for that. You’d be far more comfortable and fresh in a dark doublet and trousers rather than this hot and heavy armor (though magnificent). You sigh softly, for the drake helm leaves your mouth exposed and it just wouldn’t do to be seen irritated or bored on the day of the coronation. The queen whose crown is still pending placement is already enjoying a delightful time with the Great Dukes, the most powerful of her vassals.

You meanwhile, may dedicate your time as you wish.

>Whatever the queen says, you have to catch her assassin before he strikes. You will investigate the matter with your most trusted fellow lancers whom you already spotted in merriment by a corner. They’ve already thrown you a few mocking gazes due to the fact that you’re basically in a walking oven for the rest of the morning.
>Dragons be praised! Is that Lady Analina Swanlake? A precious and youthful beauty of fair golden hair and azure blue eyes… Mayhaps she is seeking a paramour for her time at the capital? And it’d be the first time you seduce someone in your armor while at a gala.
>You’re supposed to serve the queen… It may be good to gain her some allies or some such. The Marquis of Stryx, an old lord from the frontiers, is having some issues with beasts and monsters. A task that the queen’s father left pending. Perhaps you could take the matter into your own hands.
>Write-in. You can be creative and add some world-building aspect to your write-in (Keep it concise! One post at most).

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Hello and welcome to Perverse Dragoon Quest!

As you may have adeptly noticed, this quest is loosely based on Final Fantasy, and also a bit on Fire Emblem. We follow the path of Valter Highwind, member of one of the purest Dragoon bloodlines in the Kingdom of Luehr, in his trials and tribulations as the personal lancer of the queen.

Our main character is a bit of a perverted (not strictly in the sexual sense), “life is just a joke” style of guy. His bloodline gave him everything, and forced him to be what he is, and now his love for the queen shackles him to his fate… We’ll know more about him as we go along, but I hope you guys are getting where I’m going with him.

I’m doing this quest as a sort of refresher. I’ve been itching to quest for a while now but I’m not yet ready to continue with my main quest (Vegeta Quest!) So for now I’ll dedicate time to this one.

Actually it’s all based on the hexcore song Devilish Lancer by Sir Knight Beats https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mq2rOEpC1JA

Rules:
>Votes are closed as needed for when I actually have time to write. My usual pace is 1 update per day, but this frequence may increase or decrease depending on the hold of the Curse.
>Rolls are d100, best of three. DC is assigned depending on Valter’s skill, the difficulty of the task, and other specific circumstances. I try to keep it fair and fun for all involved!
>I consider votes and write-ins to be part of our main character’s mind palace. Do not hesitate to vote and post your opinion and/or write-in just because it’s unlikely to win. I read all your stuff, and I copy all that stuff into docs and shit. Be creative, have fun, it’s what /qst/ is for.
>Write-ins can be creative and add some world-building aspect to them. Just in case: Keep your additions somewhat coherent and to one post! I don’t think I’ll be seeing a wall of text split into 3-4 4chan posts in this quest but hey, you never know.
>I reserve the right to cancel a write-in if I deem it quest-ruining. This is extremely unlikely to happen though.

Regarding our character:
>Our dragoon, while not exactly the noblest of people, isn’t malicious either. He likes his friends, loves his queen, and avoids showing cruelty to those who have done him no wrong. He is still a member of a martial caste of the nobility, proud, haughty, confident in his birth-given superior abilities (he doesn’t even train!), a constant teaser, and ever so slightly freaky.
>His future character is for the players to build up. Will he head towards good? To evil? Something inbetween? Something far more complex? Who knows! (You do!).
>Physically, our character is basically Valter from Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones.

>>6461051
>You’re supposed to serve the queen… It may be good to gain her some allies or some such. The Marquis of Stryx, an old lord from the frontiers, is having some issues with beasts and monsters. A task that the queen’s father left pending. Perhaps you could take the matter into your own hands.
Perhaps we might woo the soon-to-be Queen with a show of competence? Ah, 'tis folly, but 'tis worth the striving nonetheless. Really though, there is nothing like a life-or-death struggle to get the blood pumping somewhere other than betwixt our legs.

>>6461051
>You’re supposed to serve the queen… It may be good to gain her some allies or some such. The Marquis of Stryx, an old lord from the frontiers, is having some issues with beasts and monsters. A task that the queen’s father left pending. Perhaps you could take the matter into your own hands.
Welcome the fuck back dude you were missed!

>>6461051
>Dragons be praised! Is that Lady Analina Swanlake? A precious and youthful beauty of fair golden hair and azure blue eyes… Mayhaps she is seeking a paramour for her time at the capital? And it’d be the first time you seduce someone in your armor while at a gala.
Stop simping and get laid instead. At least that way you actually get some. Fucking oneitis...

>>6461051
>You’re supposed to serve the queen… It may be good to gain her some allies or some such. The Marquis of Stryx, an old lord from the frontiers, is having some issues with beasts and monsters. A task that the queen’s father left pending. Perhaps you could take the matter into your own hands.
A good smith works the iron while it's hot, and our iron is always hot. We're on that grindset for our Queen to-be.

>>6461051
>>Whatever the queen says, you have to catch her assassin before he strikes. You will investigate the matter with your most trusted fellow lancers whom you already spotted in merriment by a corner. They’ve already thrown you a few mocking gazes due to the fact that you’re basically in a walking oven for the rest of the morning.

>>6461051
>Dragons be praised! Is that Lady Analina Swanlake? A precious and youthful beauty of fair golden hair and azure blue eyes… Mayhaps she is seeking a paramour for her time at the capital? And it’d be the first time you seduce someone in your armor while at a gala
First step to get the Queen to fall for us: show that we have other options

>>6461057
>>6461058
>>6461061
Closing the vote to speaking with the Marquis.

We are having some freaky thoughts with that nice shapely lady though, and that thing about the assassin is also in a corner of our mind.

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Tempting as the flutter of Lady Swanlake’s eyelashes are in that little instant her gaze meets yours, you now have to think of bigger things, probably. Honestly, being the dragoon of a royal princess was a rather cozy job, the expectations on your mistress were rather low. Indeed, everyone was expecting the king to have one or two more children at some point since he’d recently married a young daughter of the Great Duke of Dorada before his death, one of those would’ve been a male, surely.

And now, a cozy life as the noble dragoon of a beautiful, chaste princess hidden away at the castle’s tallest tower was out the window. And that sense of duty was telling you to speak to that old man with a white mustache and a look to him far too somber and depressing for such a grand occasion.

You approach him, the clatter of your armor drawing gazes from all around. Prideful ones, fearful ones, lustful ones. All was valid in the hubbub of such a grand reunion of the nation’s finest.

You stop by the Marquis, whose stone stare does not flinch at your imposing sight. His eyes head up your armor to meet the eye slits of your helmet, the man sips from his wine. From the color of it, you can tell that it’s a Falorian, a bitter pick for a bitter man.

“Marquis of Stryx, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You say with a slight, respectful bow.

The man smacks his lips as they part with his wine glass. “Lord Valter Highwind, I presume?”

“So I am.” A servant approaches you and offers you a glass of wine, the bottle stands right beside it. ‘Sweet Dreams of the Lake’, the label reads. You take the glass and look over to golden Lady Analina, who’s staring at you with a tempting smile as she raises her own glass, her head cocked with intentions as sweet as the taste of the wine now pouring down your mouth.

She can only see that mouth of yours, you let go of the glass and give her a slight smile of approval, which she delightfully takes with a big grin showing a perfect row of white teeth.

“You’ve come to me for a reason, have you not?” The marquis’ sudden, brash words reconnect you with the here and now. Duty or something. You hide a small sigh behind your next sip of wine.

“I was made aware of issues plaguing your lands, lord.” You say as you look down towards the man. “I would be delighted to offer you support in your request for assistance to the queen.”

Is that a scoff the man’s trying to hide? “We’ve had issues for the past five years, your lordship, and you have not offered help or support in all that time.”

“I was the dragoon of the princess, Marquis of Stryx.” What was his name again? Gah, you should’ve paid attention during Gussel’s classes… “My influence was limited.”

“Limited indeed, lord dragoon.” The marquis replies, only barely hiding his irritation to avoid causing a scene in front of prying eyes and ears. “Forgive my spite, I will accept your help.” He says as he takes another sip of his wine. “And when my issues are dealt with, the queen shall have the support of Stryx.” He says in a hushed voice, a statement to be heard only by you.

That was easy. Is all politicking this easy? You raise your glass. “For Stryx, then!”

“For Stryx.” The man replies dully. He raises his own glass, the two of them clink, and you take a respectful sip. “Perhaps you’ll want to hear details? I will not be at the capital for long and we will likely not have time to speak again.”

“Of course.” You didn’t want to hear them. Whatever the issue was, you’re sure your spear could handily deal with it. You rotate your weapon around as it lays on your shoulder, irked as you are by the fact that you’re now going to listen to this man’s dour story rather than Analina’s sweet nothings.

“As you know, Stryx stands at the only frontier with east, bordering the Scorchlands, it…” The man drones on, it really didn’t take long for your mind to wander at simpler thoughts. You think of your many conquests, in battle against beast and man, and in the beds of the many paramours you’ve had across the kingdom. And your hawkish instincts fixate on the thought of lady Analina again… Beautiful sapphire eyes, luscious golden hair… But the features transform, and you see your mistress’ flaming hair and fervent blood-red eyes. Her judgment is upon your subconscious for letting your mind wander off and you pay attention to the old man once more.

“Beasts from beyond the border, you see. Monsters from the Scorchlands. It happens once or twice per generation. They breed too much and fight over territory, then they spill over beyond the black tower and prowl the countryside. My peasants fear coming out at night, and in the day, they only dare travel in large bands, not that there enough people to form bands anyway. Smaller villages suffer because they do not have the manpower to properly defend themselves. Some of them die out due to famine or plague, and I receive no news of it at Castle Stryx because no riders wish to dare the dangers in the paths in order to bring them to us…”

Dragons’ breath… He’s still going? You feel your teeth grit, and you’re spinning your spear at a pace that’s made the fat noble couple behind you uncomfortable enough to move away.

“…A Zu.”

“Hm?” The marquis sees your head perk up at the word.

“Yes, they saw a Zu. A mighty flying beast, larger than a house, with the wingspan to show for it. A creature that can summon storms, and course lightning through itself to hurl it at its foes.” He explains.

“Who did? When?” A Zu! A creature of legend… By the gods!

This time, the marquis does not hide his sigh. “I was telling you about captain Gorland’s expedition to Death’s Anchor.”

“Death’s Anchor?” You ask.

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“Ugh, lord dragoon. I’ve already explained this. It’s the black tower that seemingly limits the spread of the Scorchlands into Stryx.”

“Oh, the black tower, right.” You’re not gonna be remembering that name. Why get so complicated? Just call it the Black Tower, it is what it is. “Pardon me, Marquis Stryx, the dragon blood boils and it obfuscates the mind during longer conversations.”

“I believe blue eyes and blonde hair are the only thing obfuscating that dreadful mind of yours, lord dragoon.” You notice a hint of comedy lodged within the dry tone of the marquis as he sips on some wine. “Whatever. The Zu has nested at the black tower. Strong monsters attract weaker monsters to its position, for whatever reason. As long as the Zu stays at the tower, migrating monsters from the Scorchlands will spill over to Stryx rather than heading anywhere else.”

“So I must slay the Zu.” You reply. “A simple task, even if not easy.” You try to hide your excitement. The mere thought of coming to the castle with the head of a Zu, a tale that will regale many an ear, and that may bring a smile of pride out of your queen’s often downbound lips.

“Words I’d expect from a dragoon.” The marquis states.

A servant comes by, you were hoping for some more sweet wine of House Swanlake, but this girl is a royal servant. Brown hair wrapped in a ponytail, brown eyes trying hard to avoid showing emotion. “Lord Highwind, the queen calls.”

“Right.” You give the marquis a light bow and depart with her.

She hurries, having to trot to keep up with your fast walking pace. “The ceremony is to begin within the hour, the Great Dukes and their families are being hurried into the throne room.” The girl says with a neutral tone. “The queen says you must stand at her side now.”

This girl… She’s rather attractive, even if simple looking. She’d never stand out in a crowd, but when you look close… There’s a hidden beauty to her. Like a four leaf clover, hidden among its far more normal brethren. Trained to be a royal servant of the princess. Your mistress had her servants specially trained to avoid showing any sort of emotion. Nothing in their tone or visage can express any hint of meaning to any message they relay. Dry and coarse, like ink on a parchment. Yet her eyes... Those eyes would get anyone's attention.

Wouldn’t it be nice to see what lies behind them?

>A few honeyed words, a look of surprise, an invitation to walk the gardens… Then a look behind the mask. Try to court the young lady while on the way to the queen.
>Perhaps another time. You must focus fully on safeguarding your mistress! Damned dragon blood...
>Write-in.

In any case, the ceremony will soon begin, and we will roll for our perception.
>Roll 1d100, best of three.

Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>6461129
>A few honeyed words, a look of surprise, an invitation to walk the gardens… Then a look behind the mask. Try to court the young lady while on the way to the queen.

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>6461129
hard to top the last roll, but....

>>6461145
Ah.

>>6461145
Bruh...

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>6461143
BEHOLD, MY 100

Also, +1

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>6461129
>>A few honeyed words, a look of surprise, an invitation to walk the gardens… Then a look behind the mask. Try to court the young lady while on the way to the queen.
Gotta vote for the flirt to make it up to the boys who wanted to hit on Lady Swanlake. Also dice.

>>6461129
>A few honeyed words, a look of surprise, an invitation to walk the gardens… Then a look behind the mask. Try to court the young lady while on the way to the queen.
>>6461145
This quest is blessed

You people blasting your good rolls on trying to make the roboticized commoner servant blush instead of keeping the queen from getting her guts spilled in front of a crowd.

>>6461193
The mc is a lazy noble fuckboy who wants what he cannot have. Besides if the MC acts in character, nobody is gonna suspect the Queen knows something. I do agree about the wasted good rolls tho.

>>6461196
>In any case, the ceremony will soon begin, and we will roll for our perception.

>>6461193
She deserves it, desu

>>6461193
relax, that roll wasn't just for flirting with a servant

>>6461193
Roll was for perception, not rizz, take a pill B^) trust the plan

Ye most of the rolls have to be consequential because I can't spend a daily update on whether or not you rizz a servant girl. It can fuck with the pace of the quest.

Although Valter does notice something about the servant girl...

>>6461143
>>6461152
>>6461190
Oh and we're romancing the fair lady.

>>6461145
By the dragons!

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>>6461714
yea that's right I'm a dragon and don't you all forget it

As you’re approaching the queen, the servant stops and bows as to say goodbye. You stand by her, lowering yourself to approach her height. Her head, still bowed, awaits your departure, but you grab her chin as softly as you, making sure not to hurt her with the spiked metals of your gauntlets.

“I could not bear to depart without looking once more at the magnificence hidden in your eyes.” You state with no little musicality.

She blushes. Your mouth opens in surprise, though you didn’t want it to. She removes her chin from your hand and looks down once more. “I cannot accept such a compliment from such a highborn man, lord dragoon, it is not within my station.”

“Hmph.” You straighten up, as if you’d taken offense, and walk to the queen with your chest puffed and your lance in tow. Thankfully, your helmet hid your very furrowed brow.

You’ve spent years trying to get through at least one of the queen’s servant girls and they never balked. They know their mistress’ fair dragoon will try to wrap his wings around them, if only to let the queen see how her perfect little toy dolls can also balk at the appropriate gestures or words.

No, not once did any one of them show a hint of appreciation, ardent a love as you professed, well as you dressed and smelled, try as you might to find the one thing to convince them.

And yet this girl did. In the most important day of her mistress, even though you were wearing the dragoon’s armor, which smelled of metal, even though you used a line you might as well use with a harlot from a street corner, even though she only sees your mouth and size and little else. Why balk now?

Because she’s not a servant, of course.

And who would risk infiltrating your queen’s meticulously picked and trained servants, on the day of her coronation, and without having received the proper, months-long training that it would require to properly pass as one of them?

Someone who saw an opportunity in the queen’s coronation. Who didn’t have much time to prepare, because the last king died of illness. Who had to have a reason to be close to the queen in order to enact their plan…

She’s the blinker. A pleased smile draws itself on your visage as you look down on your mistress, who looks up at you with her fiery eyes. “What has you so pleased, Valter?”

“Only the radiance of your poise, your majesty.”

A hint of a smile is swiftly crushed. She cannot afford to smile today. “You will walk down the aisle behind me to my right.”

“Of course.”

The last of the half-drunk nobles are driven to the throne room, having formed into two crowds, one to each side of the path the queen will take. The two halves blocked off by members of the royal guard, lancers interspersed among them.

The servants have finished the preparations of the queen’s dress. She looks immaculate. Your words were no mere taunt, you had never seen her this beautiful.

She takes a long, deep breath. “Your smile has not yet waned.”

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“Are you sure it will be a he?” You ask her. She did say the murderer would be a man.

“Yes, though of the kind you prefer.” She replies. She allows herself to smile now that the two of you are on your own. “How perceptive, my lord dragoon.”

Her pleased voice drives just as much pleasure in your mind. If you were a dog, your tail would be wagging incessantly like a Doradan Retriever. That servant girl… She was no girl at all. You hadn’t noticed, not that you had the time to thoroughly look at her -his- body while surrounded by the crowd and noise, though at first glance she did seem somewhat plain in those regards.

“You could’ve told me from the beginning.” You say.

“Where would be the fun in that, Valter?” She says as she takes the first step towards the coronation room.

You twirl your lance and put it into position, well held by your right hand, tapping the ground along with your steps as you follow her in.

A thunderous clapping resounds throughout the throne room, the noise driven to greater fervor by the acoustics of the place. Musicians do their work, the hymn of Luehr is heard along with the nobles’ shows of support through supportive yells and the constant clapping. Smells of flowers with a tint of alcohol from the many yelled breaths mixing in the air.

You smile as you look through the crowd, finding there some of your old lovers who give you looks of spite or invitation, sometimes both at the same time. You keep your strict militaristic strut though, not wanting to humiliate your mistress in her most important of days.

The servants follow along behind her, though you cannot look behind you during the ceremony, you know they must have their heads held low, their hands clasped together at the front, not stealing any of the dignitas the queen is earning today.

Clever little assassin. You can’t look behind yourself to see her -him- coming, he will not be obstructed by the crowd, nor will his entrance be a spectacular coming from the heights of the roof or from behind the throne. The guards are busy holding back the drunk nobles and, while the queen’s servants are trained to be dour and neutral, they are not trained to be warriors of any kind, they’ll be just as shocked as anyone else…

So you have to listen. Your smile intensifies, going from ear to ear. Your blood roils. It wants, no -needs- for him to attack, to give you an excuse to display your strength, an excuse to hunt prey. You get odd looks from the guards, but your fellow lancers stare you down, they know something is up when they see that smile streaking across your face.

The first shocked sigh, the first words not of praise, the sound of a furtive step, of leather being handled. It begins.

The form of the servant who’s not a servant appears into existence in front of the queen, a dagger in his hand, his eyes locked with your mistress’ who does not even flinch at his appearance.

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A tiny, tiny moment of doubt shown by the assassin, surprised by the queen’s lack of surprise. That little instant is all you need to move in and slam your gauntlet in his face, sending him flying back, his form disappears in midair, yells and shrieks from the crowd indicate his new position. The royal guard and lancers form a defensive perimeter around you and the queen. Some of the nobles unsheathe their weapons of choice as well, while those closest to the exit flee.

“Valter.” Your mistress says, her visage unfazed by the event. “Kill the assassin as swiftly as you can. I want them to see it.”

You strike the lancer’s pose, if your smile did not look sickening before, it does now. “Yes, your majesty.”

A battle begins, what ability will you use?
>Jump. The traditional skill of the lancers will be a magnificent showing for the crowd. It’ll also allow you to get up high and check the blinker’s position.
>Defensive Posture. You don’t want to risk the assassin reaching the queen while you’re in the air. In any case, he’ll be coming for her, right? So you might as well wait him out and do battle with him then and there.
>Magic: Thunder. Let’s get the best of both worlds, shan’t we? Attacking the enemy while standing near the queen. Nevermind the fact that messing this up could get someone hurt by accident.

>>6461734
>>Jump. The traditional skill of the lancers will be a magnificent showing for the crowd. It’ll also allow you to get up high and check the blinker’s position.

>>6461734
>Jump. The traditional skill of the lancers will be a magnificent showing for the crowd. It’ll also allow you to get up high and check the blinker’s position.
jump good

>>6461734
>Jump. The traditional skill of the lancers will be a magnificent showing for the crowd. It’ll also allow you to get up high and check the blinker’s position.

>>6461738
>>6461740
>>6461753
Jump!

>Roll 1d100, best of three.
Since we were very very perceptive, we'll have an advantage during this combat.

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>6461763
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAA

Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>6461763

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>6461763

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You make a decision, if the queen wants you to make a show of it, you will make a show out of it. You move the guards out of your way and step out of the protective shieldwall they’ve formed around the queen.

Various eyes lay themselves on you. The mighty armored dragoon, a true symbol of Luehr itself, stands ready to protect the kingdom from a dire threat. Nevermind the twisted smile on your mouth.

You spin your lance around in a flourish, the wind around you picks up, you bend your knees, your strong legs tensing up in anticipation of your next move. A jump, powered by the strength of the wind itself, you fly up to the roof and see the assassin blinking around the room as despaired nobles yell in terror at the sight of the murderous dagger in his hand. He’s seeking a way to the queen, a weak spot, though he must know that for all intents and purposes, his assassination attempt is ruined.

Then again, he is a blinker, and you’re acutely aware of how being part of a bloodline can lead to one being rightfully overconfident in their own abilities. Still, the lad’s trying so hard to get to your mistress that even his blinks become predictable. He blinks straight to the two guards you moved away and blood flies out of their necks, which they clutch as they fall. The queen is once more facing the young man.

You chuckle as you twist your upper body to direct your fall, more spins of your lance lifting up the wind, you then swiftly bring it down, diving fast enough to tear through the air itself.

The assassin looks up, he realizes in an instant what’s happening, but not fast enough to blink. His deepest of instincts kick in though, and he moves his body away just enough to avoid being torn to shreds by your lance, but not enough to save his leg, its lower half ruined by the cut of your spear tip. He yells and whimpers as he finally is able to blink away, disappearing from sight, he’s right by a window. Poor guy probably wanted to dive straight out the window, but panic did not let him.

The queen looks at you, insisting on her earlier order. You take your spear under your armpit with a quick move that sends the assassin’s blood flying to the precious royal carpet. The assassin looks at you, panic in his eyes, he knows the situation he’s in, he knows death is the most likely end to this debacle.

Ah, your heart flutters ever so slightly with pity. Must he really die? Have you not made enough of a show already? So young, his whole life ahead of him! And making a blinker owe you their life is no small thing either… the lad’s just a hired knife after all.

But the queen wants what the queen wants, and he’s made two soldiers pay the ultimate price.

Before we choose our move, choose your intent:
>Kill him, the queen’s message must be sent.
>Merely pretend to kill him. You’ll avoid spots that would kill him and make sure to throw him out the window when he’s unconscious. The queen will have her show, even if the assassin technically does not die.

Now, what ability will you use?
>Jump. Because what worked once will work twice.
>Stinger. Charge forward and tear through him with your lance.
>Magic: Thunder. What better way to finish him off than to fry him?

>>6461841
>>Kill him, the queen’s message must be sent.
>Magic: Thunder. What better way to finish him off than to fry him?

>>6461841
>Kill him
>Stinger

>Merely pretend
>Stinger

Can't kill such a cute femboy, what's wrong with you?

>>6461841
>Kill him, the queen’s message must be sent.
>Magic: Thunder. What better way to finish him off than to fry him?
We must assert the royal ascent of our princess.

>>6461841
>Kill him
>Stinger. Charge forward and tear through him with your lance.
She wanted a show. This is probably the most violent display for those in the room.

>>6461841
>Kill him, the queen’s message must be sent.
>Stinger. Charge forward and tear through him with your lance.

PhoneQM here. We kill twinks with our stingers in this house. Will he escape though?
>Roll 1d100, best of three.

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>6461873

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>6461873

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>6461873
I need your power... just one last time...!

Cute face or no, the lad must die. The queen has a message to send, and there’s two men that need to be avenged.

You spin your lance behind you, then bring it forward, holding onto it with two hands. The nobles have gotten out of the way, the young man is scrambling towards the window, you’d think he’d have blinked out of the castle by now, but the power must have limits.

A shame that he pushed himself this hard, he’d have had a chance to escape your wrath. Alas! You put a foot forward and summon your magical abilities to funnel wind all around your body. Within a second, you’re dashing forward at a ridiculous speed towards the lad, who looks at you in panic. You thrust your lance with all your might, twisting your upper body to bring it further strength, and letting go of it to maximize its reach.

The spear’s blade is about to reach him, but he brings down his dagger and deviates the blow headed straight for his heart, instead, your lance pierces his belly, tearing through his lower torso and coming out the other end along with a deluge of blood.

The lad holds onto the shaft of the lance, realizing his precarious position. His eyes are already beginning to dim, blood pools in his mouth and slowly drips from its corner. Now that you’ve hunted him, the sorry sight he makes in his last moments remove the smile drawn on your lips. You bring your spare dagger out of your belt, wishing to end his pointless suffering.

But he begins to disappear on his own, his body turning into ash and slowly drifting out of existence. Soon, no evidence remains of the lad save for the blood pooled on the ground. You sheathe your dagger and sweep your lance to a side, removing most of the excess blood off of it.

A silence follows, then clapping, you turn around to see the remaining nobles giving you a standing ovation after your fabulous display of might and strength. You return the nicety with a bow, making the applause more thunderous than before as noblemen return to the throne room after the fright, as though they’d never been gone.

After your bow, you approach the queen and bring yourself down to a knee, one hand to your chest. “The threat has been dealt with, my queen.”

“I congratulate you on your grand victory, my dragoon.” She says as she bids you to rise. She turns to the rest of the room. “In memory of the two guards who have fallen performing their duty today, we will proceed with the ceremony.”

Some of the royal guard take the corpses of their fallen away, further thunderous applause is given out in the name of the dead, the queen closes her eyes as they pass by her, showing somber respect. After they are carried out of the throne room, everyone returns to their positions, those positioned nearest to the blood look at the traces of battle with curiosity or shock.

The ceremony proceeds, the queen continues her walk towards the throne, where the archbishop of Luehr awaits her.

She stands in front of the old man, the crown standing on a finely crafted wooden pedestal between them. She looks at the crown first, then their eyes meet. The confused priest is waiting for her to kneel, but she does not. You’re looking at her, then at the priest, then at her again.

“Please proceed, Archbishop Cedric.” She states.

A tense silence follows throughout the throne room, but no one dares rebuke the queen to be after the display of her dragoon.

“P-princess Rosalia, as per your birthright as child and heir of King Lagarde of Luehr, and by the powers granted to me by God and the grand prophet, I name you Queen of Luehr and Lady of Castle Hepalis and all of its sworn domains.”

His hands head for the crown, a golden circlet upon which various gemstones are inserted, the largest of which being a great ruby at its center, but your mistress raises her hand, interrupting the archbishop. She ceremoniously takes the crown and places it atop her brow.

You hear gasps and long breaths of surprise behind you. You expected her to be a little daring, but this takes the cake, she’s disrespected God and the prophet. The queen turns, her gaze laying on the room as a whole.

“You may wonder why I have been so bold.” She says as the rising whispers in the room deaden to listen. “But I would have you remember whose blood it is that courses through my veins.” She raises her hand to her face and clenches it into a fist. “I am the blood of King Ifrit, the flaming conqueror, who united Luehr into a prosperous and peaceful kingdom.”

Her agate eyes turn to a burning red, fire sputters from them and then from all around her silhouette, forming a magnificent aura of crimson and gold. “God was the witness of King Ifrit’s might, the dragons bound their fate to his strength. My right to rule comes from the divinity of my blood, from the strength of my flame. Not from the words of a frail old man.”

She turns to look at the now panicked man, agape mouths all around the crowd. The guards and your fellow lancers are tense at the sight. “Much less so one who would dare conspire against me.” She says as the man falls and she now towers over him.

“Mercy, your majesty! Mercy!” The old man shrieks. “I do not know of what you speak!”

“I believed in you, archbishop Cedric. I believed in you to the very last moment… And yet my naiveté forced my dragoon to risk his life, and two brave men to lose theirs.” She states. “Yet I will not be so bold as to taint this place with more pain and death as you’ve so callously done.” She turns to the guards nearest to her. “Take him away.”

As they do, the flames around the queen die out, and her gaze returns to its usual self. She looks at you once, then heads to the great marble throne of Luehr, she sits down and waits.

Complete silence follows, the entire crowd flabbergasted by the events that just transpired. You’re not even sure what’s going on yourself…

>Raise your lance. ”Long live the Queen!”
>Stay silent, look to the rest of the dragoons.

>>6462116
>Raise your lance. ”Long live the Queen!”
We are a Dragoon, we ride or die.

>>6462116
>Raise your lance. ”Long live the Queen!”
Hide a smile at her Majesty claiming naivety. Now that's a funny joke. Reflect a bit at the former King's untimely passing. Could she have been responsible for that as well? It may be naive of him to assume otherwise. If his life's a joke he should at least appreciate the punchline.

>>6462116
+1 to>>6462122
Yeah, while not impossible - 50 is still a bit early for sudden and deadly illness. Unless he either lived a live of excess or was generally frail/offen ill. So, let`s remember exact circumstances of his passing. After all, if there is trail to our Queen there (or even illusion of such trail) better to know beforehand then to be in the dark.

>>6462116
>Raise your lance. ”Long live the Queen!”
I don't think I trust this broad? She's kinda whacky!

>>6462116
>Raise your lance. ”Long live the Queen!”

Honestly based. She's my kind of crazy.

>>6462116
>Raise your lance. ”Long live the Queen!”

Are we supposed to not? Long live the queen!

>Stay silent, look to the rest of the dragoons.

This foid is nuts

>>6462116
bitch be crazy
>RAISE YOUR LANCE

>>6462116
>>Raise your lance. ”Long live the Queen!”
A wise man once said: "Crazy in the head, crazy in the bed".

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Whatever is going on, you’re sure the queen has it all under control. You raise your lance, some nearby nobles flinch from the sudden move. “Long live the queen!” You yell. The silence remains. “Long live the queen!”

Your fellow dragoons join in your cheer. “Long live the queen!” They yell. The Lancer Corps was, after all, loyal to the monarch, not to God or the nobility. As the dragoons continue, the guards join up, lifting their own spears and voices. The more bellicose looking nobles who had stayed behind to battle the assassin unsheathe their swords and sabers and join in as well. A thunder of voices can already be heard and they become more thunderous as the more cautious lords and ladies join in now that they see the majority of their peers acclaiming the new queen.

After a minute or two of cheering, the moment begins to die down. Silence returns to the throne room. The queen stands. “Guards, bring the musicians back in to regale our ears. I will now take your oaths of fealty.” She then beckons you to come up.

You approach the throne and kneel with your lance in hand. “Valter.” She says as the musicians shuffle in and begin their songs. “Join me to my right.”

“Yes, your majesty.” You reply. You position yourself as ordered, a servant approaches you to clean the blood off of your armor and spear.

“No.” The queen says. “Leave it.” Her servant bows with not a single hint of an expression and retreats. You shuffle a bit, rather uncomfortable, you don’t like being looked at with fear, and you can see the fearful looks on some of the nobles coming up to kneel and pay homage to their new queen.

First are the Great Dukes, among which is House Swanlake. Lady Analina is there them, her eyes look for yours and you meet them, though the encounter lasts only an instant. It seems she was just checking something, you’re not sure what. You saw no fear for your wellbeing, really, but neither did you see a fear of you as you saw in other gazes that met yours.

Her father, Duke Roland Swanlake, swears the fealty of his family to the queen, who looks on with a smile that some may perceive as friendliness, but you know what’s hidden behind it. A form of pleasure, the pleasure brought about by authority. Though you’re not aware if Swanlake was among them, many of the Great Dukes’ houses showed reticence at being ruled by a woman.

Speaking of, the last of the Great Dukes to swear fealty is the one whose daughter had married the former King in the hopes of bringing a male heir. House Dorada. Great Duke Camilo, you think that’s the name of this one. An old man sporting a fancy mustache.

“I, Duke Camilo of House Dorada, in representation of all of my house, swear fealty to you, Queen Rosalia of Luehr.” He duly says as he kneels and bows forward.

“And what of lady Adriana?” You hear the queen speak, the first time you heard her say anything outside of the usual procedures.

“She… She found herself indisposed and is resting in one of our mansions in Costa del Sol.” Duke Camilo says, doubtful of the queen’s intentions.

“Let the widowed queen know that I share in her grief, and that she is welcome to visit me in Castle Hepalis anytime she desires.” Your mistress says. “I accept your oath, Duke Camilo, and will protect your rightful dominion over your lands.”

The man looks down, his eyes closed, accepting the queen’s words, and then retreats.

Then come the smaller, more boring lords and ladies, including the Marquis of Stryx. The whole procedure slowly but surely begins to bore you out of your mind, but you have to keep yourself straight, your lance gripped. Being bored makes you nervous, the dry blood on your armor and spear makes you uncomfortable, and you now notice the insidious itch that comes with being hot and sweaty in a crowded room.

You’re almost praying to Luehr’s God and to the dragon gods by the time the event ends. The queen gets up from her throne, also rather sweaty, the sun’s rays are piercing through the windows now. “And now, my lords, please proceed to the summer feast hall, where we will partake in drink and food aplenty, while enjoying the fresh breeze of my father’s well curated garden-forests.”

Whispers turn to open conversation as the nobles stream out of the throne room and are guided to the hall by guards and servants. You’re glad you can finally relax your stance and shift your arms and legs a bit. The queen approaches you, looking at you from the bottom up. “You can get that armor off now. Get washed, get into some comfortable clothes and have the servants bring you a clean lance. You may enjoy the feast with whoever you wish.” She approaches you even more than usual and you see her hand close in to your pauldron, which she dusts off. “I hope they can get the blood off of it.” She says. “This armor has always made my dragoon look magnificent.”

Your heart flutters, your whole body tenses up. “Hopefully, my queen.” You say.

“You’ve made an excellent show today, but the way that assassin died…” She states, expressing doubt for the first time in the whole of the morning.

“It was a strange way to die, wasn’t it?” You say. “Quite fancy though, the playwrights will be having a field day with it.”

A pleased smile appears on her lips, a momentary lapse she allows for herself as her back is turned to the crowd. “Indeed they will. It didn’t quite look like one of his blinks, those were faster, and what they left behind seemed less ashy.”

“Perhaps it’s just how they die.” You say.

“Or perhaps the bastard has fled.” Her hand, which was still checking the state of your armor, turns into a fist and slams into your chest in frustration, her beautiful smile leaves her lips and her brow frowns, your whole mood slumping along with hers. “With those wounds and the amount of magical power he must’ve used trying to reach me, I doubt he’s gone far. Have the lancers look for him, just in case.”

File: RenaVibe.jpg (142 KB, 1080x1350)

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Oh right, that other thing. The captain of the Lancer Corps is usually the one assigned to the monarch. It was a nominal role, in the end most of the relevant organizational tasks and decisions were left to the eldest dragoons. But of course, your queen will want to flex your newly anointed power in your organization. You don’t think most of the other lancers and dragoons will be up to receive orders from you. Strong and able (and beautiful) as you are, you’ve never shown many leadership qualities to say the least.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You reply.

“The dragoons must obey you, Valter. This will be a good moment to see who stands where.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

She beckons a few of her servants over. “Wash my dragoon and get him some proper clothing, and have the guard bring him a new lance.” The servants nod, prompting you to come along, which you do. “Oh, and make sure to thoroughly clean the armor.” The last of the queen’s words, she then retreats to the back of the throne room with more of her servants, it seems she’ll be taking another passage to the summer hall.

“My ladies.” You bow and signal the servants to go on first. No reply, no reaction. Now these were truly the servant maids of the queen.

The young women take you to a bath where you’re washed and rinsed and provided a new set of clothes. You didn’t even try courting any of the young ladies there present, you knew it’d be pointless. Plus, you needed to rest your mind for that little moment, you’d be back into the maws of this grandiose social gathering in not too long.

When your bath’s over, you’re almost sad to see it end. You put on your fresh set of clothes, a dark blue doublet and hose. The girls stand by the doorway, waiting for you to leave. So you do. As you walk down the hall, you see two people waiting for you. A guard with a fresh lance, who hands it over to you before returning to his duties, and a silvery shorthaired female dragoon. One you know rather well. Rena Swiftspear. She seems haughty as always.

“What was that about in the throne room?” She asks with her fists to her waist.

“What part?” You ask. “The attempted murder or the imprisonment of the archbishop? Or maybe the affront to God that was the self-coronation of my mistress?”

Rena lifts a hand to the air. “All of it! It’s like I was watching some old play!”

“It’s not me you should ask, I just protect the queen.” You reply.

“Oh c’mon, you’re her dragoon, surely you know something? Heard something? Rumors? Some conversation between servants?” She probes. No surprise there, Rena has always been a curious one, and the two of you were littermates, the trust is strong among those dragoons born on the same year.

“Nothing at all.” You say. “You know I’m not the prying sort in these sordid affairs.” Your tone bordering on ridicule.

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She crosses her arms as the two of you walk down the hall, seemingly deep in thought. As deep as Rena’s thoughts can go, at least. “Now that you’re here, I, captain of the Lancer Corps, have an order.” You say. She stares back at you with a mocking expression.

“I’m serious!” You say. “The blinker may not have died when I cleaved him with my shaft.”

“Oh shut up with the innuendos, what are we 15?” She scoffs, but the smile on her face indicates she found it funny enough.

You chuckle. “But I really am serious. We’re not sure if the guy’s dead.”

“Guy?” She asks.

“Yeah, that was a guy.”

“A cute one.”

“Indeed.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Find him and kill him!” You say, exasperated at having to state the obvious.

“No you fool.” She grows just as irritated. Defiant looks are exchanged, dragon blood against dragon blood. “You’re the captain now.” She puts a finger to your chest. “You can’t just say ‘Oh go kill this guy’. Who should go? Where should we go? Should some of us remain at the feast hall? We’ll need a whole team to survey the grounds of the castle.”

Ugh. You streak your hand down your face. “Have Gussel take a team, he’s a veteran, and a good tracker I think.”

“He is.”

“Alright, then…”
>Bring as many dragoons as possible to the search, we’ll leave a skeleton crew at the feast.
>Send out a few teams only. He’s probably dead anyway.
>You take care of it, Rena. I trust you wholeheartedly.
>Write-in.

The two of you are just entering the feast hall. Food and drink flows from one place to the next with quickfooted servants. The place smells of delicious roasted meats and alcohol. The noble families are spread out among various tables, leaving a few seats empty for those who may come visit to discuss matters of import. The whole room is presided by the royal table, which you have to walk up a few steps to reach, there the queen is already eating with some noble courtiers and handmaidens. You notice a few spots where you might want to go.

>The dragoons are concentrated in one of the tables closest to the queen’s. You may want to check what their thoughts are on the coronation. The queen wills it after all.
>The Swanlake’s table has a few empty spots, most tempting of which is the one right by Analina. Plus, checking on one of the great houses would count as politicking, wouldn’t it?
>The Dorada’s table, another great house which had a queen for a while. Perhaps you can see if Duke Camilo requires the help of a dragoon, if only to alleviate the tension brought on by the words he exchanged with the queen when he pledged his loyalty.
>The queen’s table. You’d like to speak with your mistress of all the things that happened, get a clearer picture on the matter. It’s all rather strange even for her.
>Write-in.

>>6462369
>A wise man once said: "Crazy in the head, crazy in the bed".
>>6462177
>bitch be crazy
>>6462176
>This foid is nuts
>>6462145
>Honestly based. She's my kind of crazy.
>>6462138
>I don't think I trust this broad? She's kinda whacky!

Girlboss gatekeep queen.

>>6462442
>>Send out a few teams only. He’s probably dead anyway.

>>6462442
>Write-in.
>Bring half of the forces.
Decent compromise - if there will be one more attack there will be still half of dragoons to react, but we still sending enough to quickly conduct lagre scale search.
>The Dorada’s table, another great house which had a queen for a while. Perhaps you can see if Duke Camilo requires the help of a dragoon, if only to alleviate the tension brought on by the words he exchanged with the queen when he pledged his loyalty.
If there were to be another plot against queen - with our current information he is the most likely candidate. And if there isn`t, by alleviating the tension we could ensure there wouldn`t be one in the future.

>>6462442
>>6462488
+1 to this!

>>6462442
>Guy?” She asks.
>“Yeah, that was a guy.”
>“A cute one.”
>“Indeed.”
Nothing to see here, just me and my bro agreeing that femboys are cute.

+1 to
>>6462488

>>6462442
>Send out a few teams only. He’s probably dead anyway
If he had the connections to save him from that wound he wouldn’t have been alone in the assassination attempt.

>The dragoons are concentrated in one of the tables closest to the queen’s. You may want to check what their thoughts are on the coronation. The queen wills it after all.
Bro it up with the homies

>>6462442
>Bring as many dragoons as possible to the search, we’ll leave a skeleton crew at the feast.

It was her majesty's first concern. Delegating the specifics to Rena abdicates our responsibility. Which to be fair, is very much an 'us' thing to do. There will still be plenty of guards for the feast, and the trouble has passed.

>The Dorada’s table, another great house which had a queen for a while. Perhaps you can see if Duke Camilo requires the help of a dragoon, if only to alleviate the tension brought on by the words he exchanged with the queen when he pledged his loyalty.

Okay, yes, yes, we're being a busybody, what do you want, etc.

>>6462442
>>6462488
Support

>>6462442
>Send out a few teams only. He’s probably dead anyway.
We're just that good.

>The dragoons are concentrated in one of the tables closest to the queen’s. You may want to check what their thoughts are on the coronation. The queen wills it after all.
Our duty to our crazy-ass queen.

I'm just joining now thanks to Sloucho's QTG recommendation. Good stuff!

>>6462442
>Bring half of the forces.
Support to this from >>6462488
But I think we should go to
>The dragoons
Because we need to make some power moves early to exert control over the dragoons. We're technically the boss now.

>>6462442
>Write-in.
>Bring half of the forces.

>The Swanlake’s table has a few empty spots, most tempting of which is the one right by Analina. Plus, checking on one of the great houses would count as politicking, wouldn’t it?
Maybe we should try also meet other women than queen

Hi folks, sorry for my delay, I got a surprise visit from a few friends this weekend and hangovers last longer when you're old.

Here I go writing again.

Final tally:

We're going to send [blue[half of our forces[/blue] to search for the assassin or what remains of him. Though part of us thinks that we did our job well enough during the event, caution won out anyway.

We're going to sit at the Dorada's table to continue our trend of checking on the current political situation. Our fellow dragoons are also on our mind, and lady Swanlake remains in a corner of it too.

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>>6464456
>[blue[half of our forces[/blue]
GRAAAH

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“Alright, then we’re going to send half our forces, have Gussel take his pick out of the dragoons in the feast, those that aren’t drunk, that is. He’ll survey the whole castle grounds and the rich district, up ‘til the Wyvern Gate. That good enough?” You say those last three words with a hint of mockery.

“Good enough for me.” Rena replies. “Should I go with him?”

“You stay and keep the other half of our forces in check at the castle. I want a dragoon here that won’t get blackout drunk at the first opportunity.”

“You say that as if you weren’t one of them.”

“Don’t worry, I’m the captain now, I’ll keep myself out of the bottom of the wine bottle.” You say with a sly smile.

“Yeah, right. Keep yourself out of Swanlake’s bottom too.”

“Now that is something I can’t promise, my dear Rena.”

“Pff.” She raises an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, cap’n. I’ll get the lancer corps to do their job.”

“And I’ll go visit the Dorada family’s table.” You bow slightly with a hand to your chest, as does Rena, and you each go your own way.

You get many looks as you traverse the feast, now dressed in fancy garment and with a well coiffed mane of light purple hair smelling of sweet perfumes, your attractive visage revealed to the general public. Hearts fluttering, looks of admiration, a few nobles clap at your sight in reverence of your deeds, while entire tables raise their glasses in toasts. The smell of food and alcohol is strong throughout the whole room. Even if the gardens beyond bring in a nice summer breeze, the room still feels stuffy with all these folks inside it.

You look over to your dragoons. Gussel, a mighty man with an equally mighty beard on a mighty square jaw, is already tapping on shoulders of his fellow lancers as he departs from the feast, they follow him along, disappointed at what little time they could spend buddying up with the finest of the realm. Rena is also gathering up a squad that will have to stand vigilant at the feast. You know you can trust those two to be relatively dutiful, though Gussel is a traditional sort of dragoon, and Rena is prone to be a rather emotional woman. You don’t know how that’ll affect how they perform their duties, or how they’ll see you, but you have to learn, you guess.

After an almost instinctive shrug ends your train of thought, you see the table of House Dorada in front of you. Duke Camilo is here along with his lady wife, whose name you don’t remember, and whose face you always forget. He’s here with two sons and two daughters. Their raiments bear striking colors of gold and blue hues, their sigil emblazoned on their chests, a mighty caravel between two chained towers. What seems like his firstborn gets up when you see him arrive, a man who seems to be your age, with a dapper mustache and groomed hair, you notice a saber in his belt. Did he stay at the throne room when the assassin attacked? You can’t remember, you almost let out a sigh.

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“Lord Valter Highwind, what an honor it is to see a man of your caliber!” The young man offers a strong hand, which you shake with some reticence, you never quite liked the honorable and dutybound sorts.

“Thank you, sir. It is my duty.” You reply.

“I am Gualtiero Dorada, son and heir of Duke Camilo. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He says.

“It is my pleasure too.” You reply.

You get fainter greetings from his other son, a lad in his late teens, who seems shy. His daughters give you bows, you notice just now that they’re twins, likely in their mid 20s, after bowing, they start chatting among themselves with big wide smiles while their mother gives them a judgemental look.

Duke Camilo has gotten up from his seat, something you see he seems to struggle a bit with. He’s not a strong man, more of a wiry sort, and age has caught up with him rather fast. The one thing he does seem to take quite a good care of is that imperial mustache he sports. “Lord Valter, I thank you for keeping us safe. Would you like to take a seat at our table?”

“It would be my pleasure.” You say.

“Then please, sit to my right as you are the man of the hour. Gualtiero, if you would take a seat by Francisco… There you are. Please sit, lord dragoon.”

So you do, the firstborn happily letting you take his seat.

“What a terrible thing to see happen in such a joyous day.” Duke Camilo says, exasperated at the thought. “I’m glad that Adriana was not here to see it, her heart is faltering since she was widowed, you see, she held the King in great esteem.”

You break some bread as you grab a big piece of pork which you dig into with fork and knife. Murdering assassins is a hungry job. “Indeed, but that is what we dragoons are here for, Duke Camilo. The safety of the monarch is paramount.”

“You are quite right. And that whole ordeal with the archbishop, who could’ve thought that quaint old man could do something of the sort…”

You almost choke on a chug of wine. Who could’ve thought. If that was part of your mistress’ plan, you really do wonder why she’d use the archbishop as a scapegoat, of all people. He was the easy way out, he’ll have a hard time defending himself as he’s no master of intrigue, but you’ve never known your mistress to take the easy way out of anything. If anything, she’d be using this opportunity to take out a target as big as Duke Camilo or something of the sort. “It took me by surprise as well.” You say, keeping the rest of your elucidations to yourself.

“Did it?” You hear one of the twins say. “I thought you’d be in the know! Considering you’re so close to the queen and all.”

She’s chastised by her mother, but you offer the girl a smile. “My task is to keep the queen safe above all else, dragoons should not be involved in courtly matters, after all.”

“And yet here you are!” The other twin says, the two of them laugh together and their mother is now clearly red with anger.

“A feisty pair.” You say in a whisper to Duke Camilo and his firstborn son.

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“They really are!” The firstborn says with a big wide smile of fraternal love.

“They indeed are…” Camilo says with a tired sigh. “Well, lord dragoon, I see you’ve finished your food and wine. Perhaps you would like to discuss something with us?”

You keep a burp down. “I’d be interested in offering you help with any issues you may have, Duke Camilo. The queen wants all of her vassals well pleased, you see, and I do imagine that your daughter’s plight is one of many affairs you must deal with.”

His tired, baggy eyes open up with a hint of… something, you’re not really sure what. “Oh, the help of the Lancer Corps? We have a detachment at Costa del Sol already, and they serve us very well indeed.”

“Father!” You hear Gualtiero, his firstborn, exclaim silently. “You are offered help of the captain of the Lancer Corps himself!” He says. A very nominal captain, you think, but you keep it to yourself. “This could end the matter of Isla Calavera-“

Gualtiero gets a fulminating look from his father, and the lad stands down, frustrated. In fact, you notice that look has shaken most of the table into respectful silence, even the chipper twins. There’s a facet of Duke Camilo you’ve never seen.

“Duke Camilo.” You say in a whisper, to avoid troubling the rest of the table. “There is no ill intent in my offer to help you, truly. I simply wish to show you the queen’s grace.”

“Perhaps you have no ill intent, lord dragoon.” You notice him singling you out there. “So I would accept your help. The King was readying himself to support us on one specific matter, the one my son has so ungraciously mentioned.”

The son’s eyes cast down to the table and his half eaten chicken leg, meanwhile, the two twins have begun chatting again.

“Isla Calavera.” Camilo says. “It is a small volcanic island that has been host to pirate crews ever since Costa del Sol became a hub of trade for Luehr and regions beyond.”

Pirates? Easy enough.

“The pirates-“ Camilo continues. “-have recently mastered the use of a dreadful animal you are likely well aware of: Wyverns.”

Now your eyes open up wide. “Wyverns, truly?” You say. Wyverns used to live in the Dragon Mountains at the center of Luehr, but they were hunted to extinction there, only a few roosts across the world are known to remain. It seems Isla Calavera had one of them.

“Yes, the beasts have roosted at the volcano of Isla Calavera for a long, long time. They enjoy its heat. As far as we knew, they were wild, but it seems the pirates have found a way to tame them.”

Impossible, you think, only someone of dragon blood could do that. Hrm, you scratch your chin. Could a dragoon have…? No way, right? You don’t really know…

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As you ponder, Camilo continues. “The man who leads these pirates calls himself the Skull King. A bad name for a bad man. His fleet of ships along with his wyvern riders have made a terrible dent on the commerce of Costa del Sol. Few ships dare to tread once flourishing trade routes, and they’re extending their range of operations farther and farther, seeking as many opportunities as possible.”

You see from the corner of your eye that Gualtiero wanted to insist further, but he dares not defy his father. “I see.” You say. “A most dreadful matter. One that I would be very pleased to try and handle.”

Duke Camilo bows his head ever so slightly. “We would be grateful for your help, lord dragoon.” He says. “But please, do not burden the queen with our plight, I am sure many matters call to her attention as is.”

You raise an eyebrow, a somewhat odd request. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Duke Camilo.”

“Feel free to stay seated with us, lord dragoon, if it would please you.” He says.

Your meal continues. You spend most of it discussing martial matters with Gualtiero, who is absolutely impressed by your tales of the might of the dragoons. He was delighted by your skill with the Jump. Seems he did stay at the throne room when the assassin struck, a deed for which you commend him. You excuse yourself and extricate from the table, Gualtiero offering you a long and somewhat sorrowful goodbye, while Duke Camilo keeps to the etiquette, there is also a slight chagrin in the eyes of the twins who were enjoying your tales just as much as the duke’s firstborn. Francisco only offers a faint goodbye, and his mother gives you a courteous bow.

Well, that was exhausting. You get up and tread around the feast, still receiving joyous ovations for your deeds by the tables you pass. The food is no longer being touched save by the most gourmand, it is now the hour of drink. Musicians play in such a way to invite merriment and dance. A few young nobles seeking other highborn folks to court are taking to the floor, inviting specific targets to dance with them, or just anyone who is willing.

You tap your wine glass which you extricated along with yourself from the table of the Doradas. You feel a little tipsy, Gualtiero’s conversation was rather entertaining, you found in him a kindred spirit, at least when it comes to fighting matters.

A party is before you, and choices to make. Too many choices… You’re missing the simplicity of older times again.
>Check with Rena and see how things are going with the search. It’s been a few hours already. You’d like to spend some time with your fellow dragoons too.
>Go discuss the matter of Isla Calavera with the queen. She should be informed of this, you’ll be able to check on her too, see how she’s enjoying the feast, and perhaps even invite her to dance?
>Invite Lady Swanlake to the dance floor. It’s about time for you to enjoy yourself a little! It also counts as politics, totally.
>Write-in.

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How about the drink? Surely you can give yourself some respite. You saved the queen then ever so slightly swayed the Marquis of Stryx and the Great Duke of Dorada to your side. Surely you deserve to party a little? (This will set the mood and tone of your earlier choice.)
>Avoid the drink. You should stay focused and serious.
>Give yourself a bit of leeway. There are matters at hand, for sure, but you’re still you.
>Enjoy yourself to the fullest. You’ve done enough for the day, the week, the month!


(Extra long update to compensate)

>>6463249
>I'm just joining now thanks to Sloucho's QTG recommendation. Good stuff!
Thanks for telling me anon, didn't even see there was a new qtg, I'll check it out.

>>6464536
>>Check with Rena and see how things are going with the search. It’s been a few hours already. You’d like to spend some time with your fellow dragoons too.
>Avoid the drink. You should stay focused and serious.
we did already tell Rena we wouldn't get drunk

>>6464536
>Invite Lady Swanlake to the dance floor. It’s about time for you to enjoy yourself a little! It also counts as politics, totally.

We've been a busybody, the other stuff can be followed up on later.

>>6464537
>Give yourself a bit of leeway. There are matters at hand, for sure, but you’re still you.

Have a little fun, we're not getting drunk, just lubricating the wheels of socialization!

>>6464536
>Check with Rena and see how things are going with the search. It’s been a few hours already. You’d like to spend some time with your fellow dragoons too.
We're captain now, Dragoons should be our top priority.
>Give yourself a bit of leeway. There are matters at hand, for sure, but you’re still you.
...But we're still who we are.

>>6464536
>Check with Rena and see how things are going with the search. It’s been a few hours already. You’d like to spend some time with your fellow dragoons too.
>>6464537
>Give yourself a bit of leeway. There are matters at hand, for sure, but you’re still you.

Yes, it is very big and important day, but we have been almost unharacteristically serious with our duty. Valter is no buffoon, he is fuly capable of drinking "just a bit".

>>6464536
>Invite Lady Swanlake to the dance floor. It’s about time for you to enjoy yourself a little! It also counts as politics, totally.

>>6464537
Give yourself a bit of leeway. There are matters at hand, for sure, but you’re still you.

We must honor the title of the quest at some point.

>>6464536
>Invite Lady Swanlake to the dance floor. It’s about time for you to enjoy yourself a little! It also counts as politics, totally.
>Give yourself a bit of leeway. There are matters at hand, for sure, but you’re still you.
I'll drink to that!

>>6464536
>Go discuss the matter of Isla Calavera with the queen. She should be informed of this, you’ll be able to check on her too, see how she’s enjoying the feast, and perhaps even invite her to dance?

Speak with her on slaying the Zu in the Scorchlands of Stryx. Both sound like really sick adventures to go on.

>>6464537
>Enjoy yourself to the fullest. You’ve done enough for the day, the week, the month!

Our dragoon blood makes it hard to process drink and get properly drunk anyhow. Let's go BOOZIN'.

>>6464536
>Invite Lady Swanlake to the dance floor. It’s about time for you to enjoy yourself a little! It also counts as politics, totally
We could go talk to queen after having some fun with lady Swanlake

>Avoid the drink. You should stay focused and serious.
Clear head

Vote tally: (Not quoting each post because 4chan thinks it's spam.)

>Check with Rena and see how things are going with the search. It’s been a few hours already. You’d like to spend some time with your fellow dragoons too.
6464553
6464571 We're captain now, Dragoons should be our top priority.
6464606


>Invite Lady Swanlake to the dance floor. It’s about time for you to enjoy yourself a little! It also counts as politics, totally.
6464558 We've been a busybody, the other stuff can be followed up on later.
6464704 We must honor the title of the quest at some point.
6464721 I'll drink to that!
6464808 We could go talk to queen after having some fun with lady Swanlake

>Go discuss the matter of Isla Calavera with the queen. She should be informed of this, you’ll be able to check on her too, see how she’s enjoying the feast, and perhaps even invite her to dance?
6464722 Speak with her on slaying the Zu in the Scorchlands of Stryx. Both sound like really sick adventures to go on.

It seems lady Swanlake won, although we're clearly thinking of our fellow dragoons too. Maybe we'll meet them halfway through the party.

>Avoid the drink. You should stay focused and serious.
6464553 we did already tell Rena we wouldn't get drunk
6464808 Clear head

>Give yourself a bit of leeway. There are matters at hand, for sure, but you’re still you.
6464558 Have a little fun, we're not getting drunk, just lubricating the wheels of socialization!
6464571 ...But we're still who we are.
6464606 Yes, it is very big and important day, but we have been almost unharacteristically serious with our duty. Valter is no buffoon, he is fuly capable of drinking "just a bit".
6464704 We must honor the title of the quest at some point.
6464721 I'll drink to that!

>Enjoy yourself to the fullest. You’ve done enough for the day, the week, the month!
>>6464722 Our dragoon blood makes it hard to process drink and get properly drunk anyhow. Let's go BOOZIN'.

It would be weird to NOT drink in the middle of a party, wouldn't it? Also kind of boring...

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That was a lot of politicking for one day, maybe more than you’ve done in your entire life. Guess you got a knack for it? Still, it wouldn’t be a proper party without a bit of entertainment. You spot the table of the Swanlakes nearby and see lady Analina talking with her father, sitting at his left, at his right is a young boy being coddled by his lady mother. They all have the characteristic golden hair and blue eyes of their homonymous duchy. It seems Analina’s father didn’t marry nobility from a different region, a departure from the usual Great House politics. You shake your head a bit. Party, Valter, party! All this speaking with old men is getting to your head already.

Analina has a serious and dour look, as does her father, her cheeks rosy from the alcohol she’s already consumed, yet when she sees you arrive, a beaming bright smile appears. She gets up from her seat and opens her arms to embrace you, an embrace which you readily accept. “Lord Valter, how pleased I am to finally be able to speak to you!” She says. “I was afraid for your life, lord! That miscreant was most skilled.”

“Not skilled enough.” You reply. “It’s not so easy to get through a dragoon.”

“Truly, you made one heck of a show, dear Valter.” She says as she retreats from her embrace and holds on to your hands.

“You stayed to see it? I would expect your ladyship to retreat to safer grounds.”

“I just peeked through the doorframe of the throne room, really, but I saw your jump, then that great streak you made through the room to reach that assassin. A dashing display.” She says with a wink her father can’t spot. She lets go of one of your hands and turns to show you those seated at the table. “You’ve never met my family, have you?” She points first at her father, an older man with a full beard and nice head of hair, pale streaks dot both along with the Swanlake gold, he does have the full bearing of a Swanlake knight, a build similar to Gussel’s though not quite as tall (he bears no blood of the dragoon, after all). The man stands to welcome you to his family’s table.

“Lord dragoon Valter Highwind. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I never had the opportunity to see you when King Lagarde held court.” He says, offering his hand.

You take it and give it a shake. “I was the guardian of the princess, after all.” Your mistress wasn’t often present when King Lagarde hosted nobility, that much is true. She preferred spending her time practicing magic and studying old dusty tomes. And when she was present, you were often suffering from a hangover and couldn’t accompany her.

She then points to her mother and what seems to be her little brother. “My dearest mother, lady Justine Hillgate, and my little brother, also called Roland much like my father.” She gives him an angry drunk stare, the old man disapproves of her stare with one of his own.

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“A pleasure to make your acquaintances.” You kiss the hand of lady Justine, and ruffle the hair of Roland the younger, who gets your hand off in a disapproving manner.

Young Roland stands up. “I’ll be a dragoon when I’m older!”

“Um…” You utter, a little confused. “Sure you will, kid!” You say, scratching your cheek.

“Then I’ll be able to defend the queen and all of Swanlake too!” He insists. “I’ll take my spear and go voom against all the baddies like you did, sir!” He makes a few gestures with his hands, as though he held a spear of his own.

“You can’t be a dragoon, dummy. You need to be born from a dragoon to do that.” Analina tells her little brother as she pokes his forehead with her index finger. “You’ll have to ride a pegasus like dad.”

“I don’t wanna ride a pegasus!” He retorts as he puts a hand to his stricken forehead. “I wanna fly all alone!”

“Whatever you say.” Analina states as she crosses her arms. “She turns around to you. Well, you came here for a reason?”

You softly take her hand and raise it. “To invite you to dance, lady Analina.”

She blushes, her cheeks reddening even further. “Mother, please have some of our wine ready for us when we return.” She says, lady Justine nods, then she darts along with you, her father just sighs and gets back to drinking with his wife.

You arrive at the dance floor, many other couples are already dancing to the tune of the skilled musicians hired for the occasion. You take hold of lady Analina’s waist and of her hand, now noticing how much of an impairment your height difference is about to create. Your first few steps are uncoordinated and the two of you stumble, laughing at your drunken mistakes. Lady Analina has always had a knack for not taking things too seriously, a characteristic you share wholeheartedly.

Her deep blue eyes look at you longingly, her smile now only a thin line. A sensation of calm fills you. After such a hectic ceremony and all that politicking, you finally get to feel some peace, as do things hadn’t changed after the King’s sudden death.

The two of you finally coordinate, years of experience showing as you take steps across the dance floor. You twirl her ladyship and bring her close to an embrace before reengaging with the usual to and fro of dancing nobility.

“You have surprisingly strong hands, my lady.” You say, feeling the grip of Analina’s hand against yours.

Her smile widens. “I enjoy riding, my lord, and it requires a lot of strength.”

You chuckle. “It sure does.” You take her for another twirl and your steps intensify in their complexity. You notice people giving you looks, but don’t pay it much heed.

“Are you well, my lord?”

“Hm?” You raise an eyebrow.

“That entire ordeal must’ve been stressful, no?” She says. “And to find yourself as dragoon of the queen… I’m sure you weren’t expecting so many duties so suddenly. We haven’t spoken much, but I worry for you nonetheless.”

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“I… um…” This isn’t the usual conversation you’d have with a fair maid. “It has its moments, but I hope to get used to it soon.”

“Truly?” Her eyes show a sincerity that digs in a little too hard for your liking and you instinctively look away.

“I’m alright, lady Analina, but I’ll be sure to speak to you when needing comfort.”

She laughs softly. “I’m glad to hear that, lord dragoon.”

“How about you, lady Analina? Are things well on your side?” You ask.

“Ugh.” You notice her slow your pace down, returning to far simpler steps. “My father. Ever since my little brother was born, he’s all he thinks of.”

“Quite a normal thing, no? Children get more attention from parents.”

“Of course, I love my little brother, he’s my stupid little ray of sunshine. But before that, he thought I was going to be his heir for the longest time, he loves my mother very much, but she was not having children. He spent much time with me, teaching me all kinds of crafts, I was even going to start riding pegasi.” She smiles. “I’d be the first woman to ride a pegasus…”

“What’s stopping you?” You ask out of genuine curiosity. “Just learn to ride them.”

She looks at you surprised. “Oh, right. My dear Valter is no bookworm. Women cannot be pegasus riders according to my homeland’s tradition. I was to be an exception to the rule, nothing more.”

“I take offense, my dear lady. I quite enjoy staring at filled bookcases and checking the drawings of the contours.” You say with a smile. “So let me offend you back: That’s a rather stupid tradition your people have. There are women dragoons, are there not? And some of them are fiercer than any man.” An image of Rena comes to mind. “So why couldn’t a woman ride a pegasus?”

She stays silent, she’s the one who looks away now, but she continues the dance skilfully nonetheless. “No trainer would take me without my father’s approval.”

“Is he that hard to convince?”

“He got stuck in the old ways after my dearest little brother was born, let’s put it that way.”

Your mistress was likely to share a similar story if lady Adriana had been with child. “A sad state of affairs. If you have need of my help, you need only ask.”

She winks. “Don’t make promises under the influence of the drink, my dear Valter.”

“Dragoons always come through.” You reply.

She smiles at you, then sighs. “I only feel that I have a potential I cannot meet. I ride a horse as well as any man, the blood of house Swanlake has always had skill with Pegasi, so why couldn’t I?”

“Potential?” You say. “I see a fully fledged woman in front of me, my lady, seeing you streak across the skies atop a white pegasus would only be the cherry on top.”

You get a laugh out of her again. “You fool, Valter.” She says.

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You spend a little more time in a slow dance before retreating from the floor, the two of you enjoy a few glasses of wine, speaking of less important nothings. You laugh, you exchange many gazes, you both get quite close, your hands reaching for each others’ bodies, cleaning some wine off lips, touching arms playfully. You feel the warmth of the alcohol, the intensity of lady Analina’s gaze. The blood lusts.

“My lady, perhaps we could enjoy a walk in the gardens.” You say, Analina’s eyes open up in surprise, a playful smile drawing itself on her lips.

“Perhaps, it is stuffy in here, isn’t it?” She says.

And then, you see Rena behind Analina, a hand in her hip. She’s calling for your attention.

“Ugh.” You say, scratching your eyes. “Excuse me, my dear lady. My dragoon calls for me.”

Disappointment is drawn on Analina’s face. “Oh. Of course, worry not. I’ll be here a while longer.” As you walk by her to meet Rena, she stops you and whispers in your ear. “I am staying at the room of the owl, my lord, all alone. The nights get cold in Castle Hepalis, do they not?”

“They do.” You smile as you give her one final look, then meet Rena. Lady Swanlake retreats to the depths of the party, which has grown more intense and rambunctious as nobles disinhibit themselves with alcohol, they have spread out all around the hall as they speak of matters both big and small, or just enjoy a laugh and a dance.

“What is it?” You ask Rena as you sip on what you imagine is about to be your last glass of wine for the night.

“You’re drunk.” She says.

“Just tipsy and extremely horny.” You reply, you check your cheeks with your hand, they’re burning up. Damn it. “What is it?”

She shakes her head. “Have you noticed it’s dark? Gussel spent the whole afternoon looking for that knife-wielding pretty boy and I’ve had to wrangle half your lancer corps so they don’t get drunk while you merrily danced and drank with lady Swanlake.” She makes no effort to hide her frustration.

You scratch the back of your neck. “I’ll make it up to you, Rena.” You bumble out.

“You know how many sweet lads have given me stares and offered me to dance? All those beautiful suitors with pearly white teeth and long winding eyelashes…” Her hand clenches into a fist.

Her breath stinks of alcohol. “Wait a minute… You drank too?”

“Fuck off, Valter. I had to keep my frustration down somehow.” She says.

“So you just came here to mess up my date?” You slur out the words.

“No. The pretty boy is still alive.”

Your eyes open up, your whole mind sparks into action. “What?!”

“Come with me, and try to pretend you’re not surprised.”

You’re able to do that at least. Rena takes you out of the hall. You feel the queen’s stare on your back. “Have you informed the queen?”

“Yes. She told me you had to take care of it.”

Agh, fuck. “What’s the situation?”

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“Gussel found some weird ash under the window where the blinker was trying to escape, on the outside, mind you. Then there was some blood and even more ash heading to the castle walls. The tracks stopped in the rich district, so he sent out his whole team to scour it.” Rena drones on. “They honed in on a specific building, a clothier’s shop. There’s some thugs in it, well geared ones. Gussel surrounded the building with dragoons.”

“Why didn’t he attack?” You know the answer to that, dragoons aren’t very good in buildings. It limits the effectiveness of your attacks, which focus on the strength from their inertia.

“Because he’s waiting for your order, captain.” She says with a ‘duh’ stare. “You think he’ll just take matters into his own hands when there’s a threat to the queen herself? He needs your word.”

Right, that’s how Gussel is. ‘Always respect the chain of command’, he told you. Not that many dragoons agree to that. The queen wants you to deal with this personally, so now there’s no way out of it for you. You’ll have to kill the pretty boy.

“How about burning the building down? –hic-“ You ask, then let out a burp.

Rena burps too. “Hell no. Not just taking into account the fact that you’re suggesting burning the property of a very important guild in Hepalis, the fire could easily spread throughout the rich district, have you noticed how cramped it is?”

You mostly jump through it. Heh. You smile. “If the queen wills it!” You raise a fist. “But she doesn’t…” Causing a fire at the rich district on the day of her coronation won’t be a good look. Rena didn’t find it funny.

“I asked the servants to get your armor and a lance to Gussel’s position.” As Rena says this, you realize you left the lance given to you over at lady Swanlake’s table. Ah well.

Rena opens up a window in the hall, letting in some delicious fresh air. She points to the direction you’re supposed to head. You both get up on the window sill and jump, flying through the skies, landing on a nearby tower, then jumping once more to get across the buildings and streets. The fresh wind of the night give your head some much needed respite, the smell of burning wood coming from the chimneys reminds you of older escapades with Rena. Your littermate speaks louder to make up for the sound of the wind around you. “Gussel will be pissed when he sees us drunk.” She says.

“Yeah.” You reply. Not the first time either, plenty of times actually. A real whole lot of times.

“So, uh…” Rena says as her boots land on a roof and you both jump once more. “How’s lady Swanlake? She’s always seemed like a nice woman.”

“Why do you ask?” You ask. “Jealous?”

She chuckles. “Oh I know I can have you in my bed anytime, Valter.”

“Don’t be so pretentious, I’m in the big leagues now.” You reply with a smirk.

“I ask because you’re my friend, idiot. Do you like her?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“I saw how you looked at the woman, Valter. That wasn’t just the horny Valter stare.”

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Uh…
>”No, not really. I just enjoyed her company after a stressful moment, that’s all.”
>”Maybe, who knows? I barely know her. She seems like a fine woman though.”
>”She is rather nice…”
>Write-in. (You can also ask Rena questions, or her opinion on one matter or another)

After your talk with Rena

You notice fires atop some roofs, torches, forming a circle around a specific building. Gussel’s imposing armorclad figure is on the one with the most torches, he’s watching the clothier’s shop crossarmed, backed up by a few dragoons. You both land near him, stumbling a bit to the sides of the tiled roof.

He turns around, looking down on the two of you. You almost instinctively bow to him. “Get up, Valter. You’re the captain.”

“Right. Um.” You get up, dusting off your expensive clothes. Gussel points to your armor and to Rena’s, and you both start changing.

“Here’s the situation.” Gussel says, straight to the point. But you can see his lips bent down when you spoke, he must’ve smelled the alcohol in your breath. “Six squads of five are surrounding the building, making sure no one escapes through the streets. They have orders to capture or kill anyone that comes out of the building that looks even remotely suspicious.”

He points to the building. “I don’t know how many of them are in there, we counted at least six peering out the windows, not including the blinker. There must be more inside, I doubt they’re stupid enough to send all of their people to watch the windows.”

“Any suggestions?” You ask Gussel as you put on your gauntlets, then your helmet.

“If all of our dragoons barge in, we’ll be giving them a chance to escape. We’re good at pursuing, but these look like rogueish sorts, they’ll find ways to hide and go through cramped alleys, we might lose some of them. We should keep some of our soldiers outside.” He states plainly. “In any case, slamming thirty dragoons against a clothier’s shop wouldn’t be that efficient, it’s a small, cramped space.”

“So a smaller team goes in.” Rena says. “While the rest stand watch outside.”

“Hm.” You take a hand to your chin and tap it. “Seems reasonable enough.” You say. “I’ll be going in, queen wills it.”

“Me too.” Rena says instantly.

“I can also go, if you will it.” Gussel says as he looks down at you. He’s large for a dragoon, which makes him freakishly large for a man.

“It might be a good idea for you to stay outside and ensure the perimeter is secure.” You say.

He just nods. “Whatever you say, I’ll do it.”

>Lead a team into the building. Rena and Gussel come.
>Lead a team into the building. Rena comes along with one more dragoon of Gussel’s choosing.
>Burn the bloody place down, you’ll strike down whoever comes out.
>You’ll do this alone. It’s your job to end this.
>Write-in.

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My updates are too long.

Remember to vote for both thingies. I'll write the conversation with Rena across the rooftops first, then we'll do whatever we're planning for the assault.

>>6464996
>>”Maybe, who knows? I barely know her. She seems like a fine woman though.”

>>6464996
>>Lead a team into the building. Rena comes along with one more dragoon of Gussel’s choosing.

>>6464990
Was not expecting an Audrey Hall faceclaim for Analina. Hard to imagine her being so...solicitous.
>>6464993
Hmm, seems Rena should've perhaps gotten priority. We could've been a better captain for sure. But Analina seems to be an old friend and this seems to have been the last time to catch her if we wanted some fun.
>>6464996
>”She is rather nice…”
>"How'd the queen know who the assassin was, and that it was the archbishop that was behind it, ya figure?"
>Lead a team into the building. Rena comes along with one more dragoon of Gussel’s choosing.

Need a reliable hand outside for the pursuit. Also someone that isn't drunk.

>>6464996
>”She is rather nice… But she's no Princess, you know?”
>"How'd the queen know who the assassin was, and that it was the archbishop that was behind it, ya figure?"
>Lead a team into the building. Rena comes along with one more dragoon of Gussel’s choosing.

>>6464996
I'll switch to support this >>6465040

supporting >>6465040

>>6465040
+1

>>6464996
>”She is rather nice…”
Nice enough to have one to ten children with

>Lead a team into the building. Rena and Gussel come.
Well we are little drunk so help is good maybe we do some heroics and get to have fun with Rena

>>6464996
>”Maybe, who knows? I barely know her. She seems like a fine woman though.”

>You’ll do this alone. It’s your job to end this.
“Oops we let the femboy escape…again”

>>6465040
+1 to this, we have standards

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>>6465480

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“She is rather nice…” The first sentence makes Rena’s eyes open wide with surprise. “But she’s no princess, you know?” You stare at her with a smile as dumb as rocks, which very much pisses her off.

“You can toy with lady parts all you want, you dumb idiot, but don’t you dare toy with a woman’s heart!” She says. “If she starts feeling something for you, you better make it clear to her that she’s not the one you’ll marry.”

The two of you land on the rooftop of a building, pausing a moment to continue your conversation. You shrug as a response. “Hey, it’s not like we just professed our eternal love to one another at that party, you’re overreacting.” Your casual tone clearly angers Rena even more.

“I just don’t see why the queen’s got you enraptured like that, Valter. You’ve had much better prospects throughout your life and you spurred every one of them.” She says.

“Guess I’m under her spell.” You say as you squat down, looking over the many rows of buildings that make up the rich district, at the end of them is the first row of mighty stone walls that protect Castle Hepalis, crowned by the Wyvern Gate. “I find her beautiful, daring and bold, uncompromising and unrepentant. Even when the whole world pushes against her, she doesn’t balk, she pushes back.”

Your words make Rena think, a rare sight. “I’ve told you this many times, Valter, she doesn’t love you back. She’s never shown jealousy even as you courted women in front of her, she’s never accepted any of your advances. You can consider her a friend, but you have to stop obsessing over her.”

You get up, stretch your back, then your arms and legs. “We’re-“

“-dragoons. Yes, yes. We love the hardest of prey. Whatever.” Rena throws her arms in the air as she parrots your usual response.

Silence follows, wind picks up and rustles your clothes and hair along with Rena’s. A nice and fresh evening breeze. “How’d the queen know who the assassin was, and that it was the archbishop behind it, ya figure?” You blurt out.

“Hm?” Rena raises an eyebrow. “She knew who the assassin was? Damn…” She starts thinking hard again. “The archbishop never seemed like the murderous sort…”

“Could it have been a ploy to reduce influence of the church?” You ask directly. There’s no need to skirt around a matter with sweet Rena. In fact, it most often resulted in a longer conversation as you had to explain exactly what you were skirting around and why.

Her brow furrows as she thinks. “But why not just influence Cedric directly? The old man was weakwilled, just one of those pyrotechnic displays by the queen would have him cowed instantly. Now that he’s publicly guilty of a crime, a new archbishop will be elected, one that could go against her wishes.”

You must recognize that you’re also trying to think now, real hard. “A greater ploy, maybe?” You theorize. “To maybe… get rid of any influence the church has in the first place?”

Rena’s thinking hand digs into her cheek. “Or maybe the ploy really was started by the church. Even if Cedric didn’t plan it, he could’ve given the go ahead, thinking the queen would never know.”

“Guess there’s no way for us to know.” You say.

“You can ask the queen.” Rena states. “I’m sure she’ll tell you if you try and pry it from her with puppy eyes and your exposed doggy belly.”

You do not take offense, the idea seems quite funny in your head. Though you think it would likely infuriate the queen more than anything else. Oh, to see her eyes light on fire once more…

>Have Rena investigate the matter of the church and report her findings to you. You will try to get some information from the queen.
>Rena shouldn’t dig further into this. You will investigate the matter on your own.
>Nevermind all that. The queen knows what she’s doing and you trust her. If she finds it fit to tell you something, she will.

>>6465507
>>Nevermind all that. The queen knows what she’s doing and you trust her. If she finds it fit to tell you something, she will.

>>6465033
>Was not expecting an Audrey Hall faceclaim for Analina. Hard to imagine her being so...solicitous.
I got her form pinterest, actually. I usually check my picks for character portraits with google lens to avoid using characters from well known franchises that I didn't watch/read. When I checked this one I saw she was from a chinese webnovel from 6 years ago called "Lord of Mysteries" and I just told myself no way someone from qst will know who this is, so I assigned her to Analina.

I can see I've underestimated qst's power level.

>>6465507
I find it more likely the Swanlakes sponsored the assassination. Perhaps the Queen immediately blaming the bishop is her way of maneuvering against them indirectly.

>>6465507
>Though you think it would likely infuriate the queen more than anything else.
Hey, is it bad? If she isn`t reacting to courting and isn`t jealous in any way, shape or form, maybe she would react to trolling!
>Nevermind all that. The queen knows what she’s doing and you trust her. But you would indeed ask her later if only to see her reaction to question.
We trust her and work for her, so no, not "investigating" something that`s like 75% her scheme. But if she would be willing to answer - great. And if not, maybe being target of her emotions would be fun. We are to useful to be quartered for joking around (as long as its private) anyway.

>>6465507
>Nevermind all that. The queen knows what she’s doing and you trust her. If she finds it fit to tell you something, she will.
Woof woof.

>>6465507
>Have Rena investigate the matter of the church and report her findings to you. You will try to get some information from the queen.
I dont really trust the queen

>>6465507
>Have Rena investigate the matter of the church and report her findings to you. You will try to get some information from the queen.

If the queen doesn't think we need to get involved, then so be it. But if she is willing to satisfy our curiosity it wouldn't hurt to ask. It's just a passing whim. The church however, should be investigated. Assuming this wasn't a ploy by the queen, and if the archbishop really was involved in the assassination attempt, we ought to follow up and investigate.

Besides, Rena getting killed by the church/the queen for looking too deep could cause some juicy drama. That's perfect for this story, imo. Would spice up our relationship with the queen if we are torn between being a loyal dog and a sworn avenger.

>>6465510
Chinese webnovels are growing more popular, and LOTM is literally the most popular chinese webnovel, really the most popular webnovel period. It also recently got an animated adaption, so it is mainstream now.

>>6465511
Maybe. I find the former queen consort Adriana more suspicious. Didn't show up to swear fealty, and if the queen really did have something to do with the her father's death, then that would give Adriana a motive to try and assassinate the queen, assuming she loved her husband.

>>6465555
>assuming she loved her husband
Or even just wanted to be queen and install her future kid as the next king, desu.

>>6465507
Also, hypothetical question - if queen were to die, who would have reasonable claim to the throne? And if no one would have strong claim - who would have at least some dubious?
Valter should know this (every courtier, dragoon or noble probably should) but this is information that might greatly influence the investigation.

>>6465527
>I dont really trust the queen
agreed, let's continue banging hoes and pissing her off

>>6465507
>Rena shouldn’t dig further into this. You will investigate the matter on your own.

It will just get Rena killed. You know why the Queen knew who the assassin was? Because she hired him herself.

Just keep in mind what kind of Inferno you serve Valtey, ol' buddy. She is gonna keep doing this kind of shit until she alone rules the roost. And guess who's going to be forced to keep jumping into the flames for her?

>>6465583
A lot hasn’t come up yet, so I’ll give what Valter knows:
>There is no clear line of succession right now.
>Both Rosalia’s father and her paternal grandfather had no siblings (a bit peculiar, there were plenty of royal siblings in generations prior).
>Rosalia’s mother wasn’t part of a noble family (she was a priestess from the dragon mountains or something of the sort, you never quite paid attention to the story, nor does the queen speak of it), but she was married to the King which made Rosalia a legitimate heir.
>There is royal blood in basically every single Great House, and plenty of other smaller houses. You’re not aware of which house is most closely related, but even the most closely related one must go back quite a few generations to find the first traces of royal blood.
So one of three things would happen from most to least likely (as per Valter’s knowledge): 1. A civil war starts between the Great Houses. 2. The Kingdom dissolves into petty constituents. 3. The nobility actually reaches some sort of agreement and places an elected king on the throne.
There's some more complexities to it, but they're not relevant right now or Valter doesn't know about them. In any case, the queen dying would be very very bad for Luehr as a unified polity.

>>6465509
>>6465513
>>6465514
Nevermind all that.

>>6465527
>>6465555
Rena investigates the church and you the queen.

>>6465721
Investigate on your own.

Result
For now, we will not investigate the matter as we trust our very beautiful and beloved queen, though half Valter's mind would like to maybe clear up what's going on, so the option will stay open in the future.

No update today, tomorrow!

>>6465864
Darn. See you tomorrow, QM!

“I’ll see what I can find out.” You say. “But nevermind all this, we have a job to do.”

“Right.” Rena nods, a decisive look appearing on her visage. “Let’s beat up those fools.” In times like this, you’re quite glad that sweet Rena doesn’t enjoy investigations and politics. You can see she’s glad she doesn’t have to think about this any longer. She also trusts you implicitly, of course, the bond of the littermates and all that.

The two of you jump once more into the night sky, heading to Gussel’s position…

Back by the building where the blinker and his thugs are holed up in, after Gussel’s debriefing.

You hear and see Rena snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Hello, Valter? Gus asked you to decide on a plan.”

You shove off her hand. “Can’t a man think? God.”

“Pff.” She says as she lays her hands on her hips. “Think of what? With that dumb head of yours you were probably thinking of lady Analina’s curves.”

“Lady Analina?” Gussel says. “What of her? Are you trying to bed her?” He says.

You’re surprised at his question, as is Rena. Gus was never a very ‘active’ sort of man.

“We are getting along, that’s all.” You say, not quite willing to reveal much to him. He’s never really shared what he thinks of dragoons constantly having flings, but from various sighs and rollings of the eyes, he probably believes it’s just one more distraction from duty.

“Treat her well, she is my niece.”

Mouths go agape. “What?!” Both you and Rena blurt out.

“My mother was a dragoon, but my father was Duke Tristan Swanlake, the current Duke’s father.”

You and Rena look at each other, then at Gus. “I… I didn’t know.” You say.

“Think nothing of it. I was raised as part of the brood, I am a dragoon through and through.” He looks down at you with a very strict stare though. “But lady Analina has been particularly nice to me, captain Valter. Even if you are my superior, I can still take personal offense…”

His stare has the weight of years. Those hands of his could crush your head. You cough into your hand, though it comes out strange due to the nerves. “Anyway, we’re not here to discuss our personal affairs.” You say with a shaky voice.

“Very true, captain. So what will it be?” Gus asks.

“I’ll be leading the team into the building.” You state with lance in hand. “Rena will come with me. Lord Gussel, you will stay outside and ensure the perimeter is secure, but we would like one of your dragoons to come with us.”

“It’s not something you’d like, Valter.” Gus says. “It’s something you order me, your underling, to do. Keep in mind your new position, always.” He turns around to watch the house once more, his hands behind his back.

“Uh… Right, right…” Gus has always been good to you, so you’ll have to take the advice. Rena elbows you and she makes a ridiculing face with her tongue out.

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“I’ll make sure the man I provide isn’t a drunk boor like you lot.” Gus says. Rena instantly switches back to attention. Gus jumps, the wind kicked off by the might of his dragoon blood is enough to send both of you reeling back a few steps. A few minutes later, he’s back with a young and lean lancer in tow.

“This is Lionel. A promising young dragoon. Take good care of him.” Gus says.

Lionel bows, part of his purple shaggy hair showing by his exposed mouth. “It’s an honor, captain.” He says, his voice rather full of nerves.

You’d never seen this one before. Well, there’s many dragoons you haven’t seen, and some you’ve seen you’ve never spoken to, and some you’ve spoken to only once. There’s a few like that. “Have you ever seen action, Lionel?”

“Against beasts and bandits mostly, lord.”

Gus pats Lionel’s back. “Treat this like a fight with bandits, just bear in mind some of them might be able to teleport.”

Lionel holds on to his lance with two hands. “That sounds like a very relevant difference, sir.”

“An eye on your back, always.” Gus says, Lionel nods, though he does not seem quite convinced of his own possibilities.

Your group of three dragoons stands ready, you watch the building from the roof of your own, there are eyes peering from the window, your draconic eyesight says as much. There are a few options to consider when assaulting the building.

First is your formation. Entering all together is a safe option but the lack of space will severely limit the effectiveness of your abilities (failures aren’t as bad, but successes aren’t as good). Each dragoon going in on his own through different points of entry will allow each of you to use your powers without holding back, but failure may entail a greater risk. Then you can also make a team of two, who will keep each other safe, and have another dragoon enter on his own.
>All three of you will enter together and keep up with one another as a team. You don’t want any casualties on this operation.
>A team of two and one entering on his own. (You may decide the team composition, if chosen without providing a team composition, it will default to Team 1: Rena + Lionel, Team 2: Valter)
>Every dragoon will enter on his own. We are dragon blood after all, we hunt alone.

Then is your point of entry. You expect the bulk of their forces to be in the lower floors (so they can escape if things get dire):
>Enter through the upper floors’ windows. Safer entry, but the foes in the lower floors will have time to react.
>Charge into the lower floors. Don’t give them even an instant to react.

>>6466190
How strong Valter comparatively to Rena, how much did she drank at the ceremony(from his point of view - at a glance) and how much alcohol hinder him (or helping) Valter right now?

I`m honestly thinking "two go from the lower floors and one from upper simultaneously", but to risk it like that, I want to know our condition(and as much about Rena`s as possible).

>>6466190
>All three of you will enter together and keep up with one another as a team. You don’t want any casualties on this operation.


>Charge into the lower floors. Don’t give them even an instant to react.
They dont even know what hit them

>>6466207
Valter believes he is stronger than Rena, they've joke duels where he's won but they've never fought seriously.

As for alcohol, the trip through the rich district has helped a lot and reduced both of your states from "rather drunk" to "tipsy" as the alcohol is already getting out of your bloodstream. It won't influence battle difficulty, though it may influence character decisions.

>>6466215
Thank you.

Then.
> Pincer them. Rena and Lionel attack directly and together from them lower floors, while Valter attacks from the upper floors to deliver a devastating strike from behind while they engaged Team 1.

>>6466250
this

>>6466190
> Pincer them. Rena and Lionel attack directly and together from them lower floors, while Valter attacks from the upper floors to deliver a devastating strike from behind while they engaged Team 1.

>>6466250
>>6466287
>>6466350
A nice strat, Valter feels very smart.

>Roll 1d100, best of three.

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>6466353

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>6466353

>>6466381
blinker's not escaping us this time lmao

Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>6466353
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAHHHHHHHH

>>6466381
>>6466383
Alas, poor twink.

>>6466381
Ah good that means we can soon go back doing important things like seducing women

>>6466190
>Every dragoon will enter on his own. We are dragon blood after all, we hunt alone.

>>Charge into the lower floors. Don’t give them even an instant to react.

Had a busy day today so no update, tomorrow!

>>6466719
See you tomorrow, QM!