/monster/ - The Last Bastion of Romance

>Talk to Sapphire

“Lot of Krakens in these murals…” You mused pointedly.

“Subtlety, my brother…” Thomas sighed, unable to keep the grin from his face “…Is clearly not your strong suit.”

“The Holy Mother has burdened me with a surfeit of honesty, it would seem.” You chuckled.

“I am not of understandings.” Sigurd admitted, peering between the both of you. “Are you of helpings?”

“Of course I want to…” You insisted “…But this strikes me as something which could fly apart, violently, if we approach it wrong.”

“Sensible.” Sigurd agreed. “What you are thinkings to do?”

“There’s a Kraken hosting me.” Thomas explained. “She’s somewhat established in Atlantea as a purveyor of seafood and various abyssal curios.”

“Is a good place to start.” Sigurd agreed. “I will be goings with you.”

“Fair warning, she’s a handful.” Thomas snickered.

>>384871

“Sapphire?” Thomas called as the three of you entered the Kraken’s nondescript dwelling.

“Thomas? Is that another guest?” The Kraken’s strangely liquid voice sounded from further within. “Make sure they know the rules…”

“Gentlemen?” Thomas sighed, beginning to strip off his tunic. Shaking your head, you followed suit.

“What is this?” Sigurd rumbled in confusion.

“Thomas’s host is… let’s just say a stickler for hygiene in her own way…” You explained diplomatically. “…Long story short everyone in here goes shirtless.”

“How is that to havings anything to do with hygiene?”, the big Nordenlander asked incredulously, yet mirrored you in removing his heavy sea-coat.

“You tell me, then we’ll both be the wiser.” Your brother pilgrim drawled.

With a slapping slither of tentacles, the blue-skinned Kraken hauled herself bodily into the entry. “Well then who do you have traipsing through my… Oh Maou… This is a big one, isn’t it?”

You tried to keep from rolling your eyes as a tentacle began its caressing exploration of your torso. Sigurd, not expecting the contact, looked down incredulously at the smooth, suckered appendage serpentining its way across his chest, its muscular expanse covered with thick blonde hair.

“So Fluffy…” Sapphire almost drooled.

“This is expected?” Sigurd asked simply, looking between you and Thomas. You nodded, shrugging slightly in resignation. The Nordenlander grunted his acceptance, reaching forth a thick hand and deliberately squeezing the kraken on her generous breast.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Sapphire screamed, recoiling, her tentacles lashing back from your torsos to curl defensively around herself. “W-why would you do that?”

“Returning of greetings.” Sigurd replied simply. “This is of Krakens you were talkings about?”

“It is.” Thomas nodded. “Sapphire may I introduce…”

“I am being Captain Sigurd. Master and Commander of the Shieldmaiden.” Sigurd interjected, advancing on the Kraken. “And you are of tellings me of how Oannes has been forgotten.”

“S-so forceful…” Sapphire drawled mockingly, yet her alien, cephalopodian eyes held a hint of alarm.

Sigurd made a face, grabbing the Kraken by one of her humanoid arms, pulling the Mamono towards him, his thick features mere inches from hers. “I am not of havings times for games.”

The Kraken looked at the Human in utter shock for a moment, before bursting into tears, shoving the man roughly off his feet and hurrying further into the building, weeping openly as she left.

Sigurd blinked, sitting up and looking after her, his face a picture of innocent incomprehension “Was it somethings I said?”

“Please might have helped.” Thomas remarked disapprovingly.

Sigurd frowned. “Mamono were always of liking dominant behaviour…”

“When they’re courting, maybe.” You sighed.

Thomas put his face into his hand briefly. “I should go talk to her…”

“Let me.” You offered, halting him with a hand on his shoulder. “If I make it worse you can always kick us out. Keep in her good books.”

Thomas nodded in agreement, and you headed up the hallway towards the inner chambers of the dwelling. The Kraken’s sobbing could be clearly heard through the closed door as you approached her room.

“Sapphire?” You ventured, rapping a knuckle gently against the door.

“Go away!” The Kraken demanded.

“No. I don’t think so.” You continued. “Sigurd was less than diplomatic, but your reaction tells me there’s more to this. Please… It’s important… If the darkness is making inroads into…”

>>384872

“Alright. We failed.” Sapphire hissed. “Does that make you happy, Human? Grandfather Ocean TRUSTED us to keep His faith, and we failed. Dagon and his pet mage wiped the very MEMORY of Him from you leggies… Left us alone to eke out a meagre existence on the edge of the waters, without love, without happiness… Is this what you wanted to hear?!”

“I didn’t come here to accuse…” You insisted, before a second tentacle tightened around your throat.

“Do you know what it’s like, to fail your God, Pilgrim?”

“Yes…” You choked. “…I have failed Her times beyond counting.”

Sapphire started at your confession “But you still…”

“I am Human, and imperfect.” You explained. “But She… She is Grace, The Wellspring of Goodness and Mercy. Though I fall a thousand times, She asks only that I stand again, striving onward. You call Oannes Grandfather Ocean. How much would a Grandfather forgive his beloved child?”

“I’m so ashamed!” Sapphire sobbed, falling into your arms and clinging to you, the tentacles loosening around your body.

“Reitia… Holy Mother… Bless this daughter of the sea…” You prayed fervently, your hand coming to rest gently on the Kraken’s smooth, soft mantle. Rose coloured light began to permeate the room, and an etherial hand reached out to rest atop yours.

“Sapphire… You have such Love within you…” A familiar voice echoed, and your eyes widened as you recognised the glowing form of Cirice floating behind the Kraken. “Know that Reitia, All-Mother of Creation, will bless and keep you, and that your faith will be rewarded, as Oannes has promised.”

“Cirice?” You gasped in joyous recognition “I knew it! I knew you were…”

Between one word and the next, the etherial image of the Cupid vanished.

“What… What was that?” Sapphire sighed, her alien eyes half-shuttered as Cirice’s benediction washed through her.

“An Angel of Reitia.” You explained, your own emotions a tumult within you at the Cupid’s sudden disappearance. “And… a friend.”

The Kraken sniffled, fixing you with a wry smile. “And here I thought I chased the impossible.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blustered, your face aflame.

Sapphire gave a liquid chuckle, resting a cool hand on your cheek and helping you to your feet. “I wish I could find somone who thinks about me like that.”

“Why can’t you?” You demanded insistently. “Thomas told me how you don’t take advances seriously… We all deserve Love, Sapphire. Why won’t you let yourself be loved?”

“Because of who I am.” Sapphire explained “And because of what was promised. The Sea Witches bond with the Tide Priests. I am foresworn, bound to wait until my Love makes himself known to me. But Dagon has hidden them away, imprisoned them in darkness.”

“Then I am doubly bound.” You declared, taking the Kraken’s hand in your own. “For Thomas, Sigurd and I aim to spoke his wheel.”

“But the Abyssal Gates stand shut!” Sapphire objected, tears welling in her eyes again. “Guarded by foul beasts immune to my magics, sealed by pestilence I cannot overcome.”

You grinned involuntarily “They’re not immune to a big man with a sharp knife, it would seem.”

“Don’t toy with me, Pilgrim.” The Kraken seethed through her tears.

“I’m not!” You assured her. “Sigurd mangled something within one of Oannes’s temples… Mangled it so thoroughly I couldn’t tell you what it looked like in life.”

“Lucky you.” Sapphire sniffed. “I’d say they have faces only mothers could love but I’d be lying.”

“That bad?” You gulped.

“Worse.”

You rubbed your forehead in thought. “So… We just need to get the gates open?”

“That’s a start… Though Dagon and his followers will be aware you’re doing it, and will likely move to stop you.”

“All-Mother of Creation” You groaned helplessly. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

“Deniel…” Sapphire began, taking your hands in hers. “…You’re a sweet boy, and I regret that I took my frustrations out on you and Thomas. This isn’t your fight. I’ll think no less of you should you choose to walk away now.”

“A Dark pretender to Godhood keeping someone from Love?” You replied incredulously “I’d never be able to show my face in a Reitian Temple again if I walked away from that. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I’m not confident in my ability to match whatever these followers of Dagon can pull together. I feel like one way or another, we’re going to need some help.”

>Try and talk to Cirice, Pestilent Pretenders to Godhood are best countered by angelic boots to the hindquarters

>Talk to Ellie and any other Circle Mages lurking around Atlantea, you need some uber-juju in your corner right now

>Talk to Robbo, see if he’ll give you a loan of whatever army he’s cobbled together

>Do it yourselves. Mama Reitia didn’t raise no bitch

>Something Else?

I fucked up, this goes here

>>384872

Your plea was interrupted by the door swinging open and a blue-grey tentacle seizing you about the waist. Without further warning, you found yourself on the floor, the Kraken looming above you, her face still wracked with tears.

>>384873

>>384873

Try and get some advice from Cirice on how to handle it.

Also, try to see if Robbo can't help you out. If he helps out and you fix the whole situation, you can tell Sapphire and any other krakens that he helped considerably. A favor like that would help them give voice or even support when Robbo goes on his campaign. Would be a good investment for him.

>>384873

Ask Robbo, Sapphire says they're immune to her magics, so we probably shouldn't take any chances with our magic. Best way to go about this is collecting many large men with many large knives and ripping and tearing through the eldritch things until Oannes is restored.

Let’s talk with Ellie, mages are likely to be the ones with the best training to deal with this. Robbo has been very kind thus far, and helping us may weaken his army and therefore his efforts t9 reclaim his title.

>>384877

I vote for this as well.

>>384873

>Try and talk to Cirice, Pestilent Pretenders to Godhood are best countered by angelic boots to the hindquarters

Considering the scale of what this involves, I think this is a good idea. Robbo as a backup is a good plan.

So it turns out the only way I can make this work is to get Deniel super OP or to have this conversation now.

>Try and talk to Cirice

“So that Abyssal Gate?” You began as you approached Thomas and Sigurd, still lingering topless in the entry room. “Turns out there’s more, and we need to get them open.”

“How manys? I am of knowings only the one temples.” Sigurd rumbled.

“Three here in Atlantea. One for the Spring Tide, One for the Neap Tide, and One for the Deep Places.” Sapphire replied. “There are others, in other places around the world. I pray to Grandfather Ocean that Dagon’s influence hasn’t spread that far.”

“Is good.” Sigurd grunted with a satisfied nod. “I will be of findings crowbar and…”

“Won’t do you any good.” Thomas interjected “The gates need to be cleansed of the corruption before we can even think about opening them.”

The Nordenlander blinked. “Why? Open is open, yes?”

“Depends what it’s opening into, fluffy.” Sapphire replied, her equilibrium somewhat returned with the promise of hope. “The Doctrines of Maou state quite plainly that the Queen of Hell sealed parts of Her realm away, that the terrors within never have the opportunity to escape. Oannes created those gates with His Divine power. You could create a mouth to the very blackest pits if the corruption remains when they are opened.”

“Will this do, do you think?” You asked Thomas, tracing the sigils and runes of Cleansing in white fire on the air in front of you.

“It’ll work…” Thomas agreed, nodding approvingly at you. “…assuming of course nobody’s fighting you.”

Your brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

“Cleansing is Holy Fire, true, but it’s still fire… and it’s hard to start a fire when someone keeps kicking your tinder to pieces. Do you follow?”

“The both of us?”

Thomas shook his head. “We’d be sitting ducks if any more of those things came through.”

“I can be of dealings with them.” Sigurd scoffed.

“You can deal with one, fluffy… a feat which deserves no small praise…” Sapphire remarked, one of her tentacles caressing the corded muscle of his arm briefly, almost instinctively. “But Ten? Twenty?”

“You are of makings point…” Sigurd agreed, resting his hand almost as absently atop the Kraken’s tentacle. Sapphire flushed at the contact, retracting her tentacle and shying away.

“We should meditate, Deniel. See if the Path can’t avail us of a solution.”

“A fine idea, my brother.” You agreed, though it was not the path you were intent upon seeking. Try as you may, you couldn’t remove the image of Cirice’s face from your mind…

>>385225

“Cirice?” You called, looking here and there as the wind whipped at you from the desert butte you found yourself atop. “I know you’re here… Please! It’s important!”

“So…” The Cupid’s voice sounded from behind you, descending to the ground with whooshing beats of her rose-coloured wings. “…You remembered.”

“The pool? Kimmy?” You clarified with a sorrowful sigh. “I did… I do… How could I have forgotten her?”

“Because you were made to.” The Angel admitted, her perfect features a picture of shame. “You must hate me so…”

“Why? You gave her back… Such as it was…”

A single tear, priceless beyond measure traced its way down Cirice’s smooth cheek. “I hurt you…”

“No. HE hurt me.” You retorted. “Who was that anyway?”

Cirice put a hand out, resting it gently against your chest. “Sweet Deniel… not now… you’re not ready for it.”

“When will I be ready for it?” You demanded. “I have to say Cirice, I’m not fond of having secrets kept from me, especially in my own head.”

“I don’t know…” The Cupid admitted honestly. “…Maybe never? I just know that it could destroy you, and I won’t take that risk… not with you… never with you…”

“I mean that much to you?” You asked, slightly teasingly.

“D-don’t toy with me, Deniel!” Cirice ordered, beating her wings and rising away from you. “You said this was important, and I don’t think teasing me is a critical task on your Pilgrimage!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” You offered placatingly, holding your hands out. “We move against Dagon, we need to get the Abyssal gates in Atlantea op…”

“You’re not serious!” Cirice gasped, putting a hand to her mouth in horror. “Deniel, it’s too much for you!”

“I’m perfectly aware.” You nodded simply. “Which is why I’m asking for your help.”

“I should say no.” Cirice sighed helplessly, looking at you with longing in her glowing eyes. “I should demand you summon the disciples… But… I can’t refuse you. I can give you the Words to summon me into the mortal world. But that will… bind us… you will be my anchor, and we will never be properly separate again.”

“Cirice, you’ve never been apart from me.” You smiled trustingly. “How will this be any different?”

“It could be…” Cirice warned. “…It could change… everything.”

You frowned. “How do you mean?”

Cirice licked her lush, bowlike lips nervously. “To start with, to know the words… you have to kiss me.”

>Kiss the Cupid

>Take a pass, see what else she can offer

>Kiss the Cupid? Oh we can do better than kiss…

>This was a bad idea, apologise to Cirice for your forwardness, let her down gently, move ahead with one of the other options.

>Something Else?

>>385226

Kiss the Cupid. Do it now!but we should remember we’re still on pilgrimage so no sex

>>385226

>kissu?

Yes

>>385226

What are we? A fag?

Kiss her.

>>385226

>Kiss the Cupid

I see we kind of blundered into this, but I'm interested to see where it goes.

>>385226

don't be stupid, kiss the cupid

>>385226

>Kiss the Cupid

We could wish for little more than this.

And try to find out some more details with everything that has been going on with Deniel. And what is this binding she mentioned?

> “To start with, to know the words… you have to kiss me.”

< N-No way fag!

>Kiss her

“When you say ‘Bound’…” You began.

Cirice’s luminous eyes flicked to the rocky ground. “I understand your trepidation, let’s just forget…”

“I didn’t say that.” You interjected, halting the Angel with a soft touch to her wrist. “Just want to be able to say I asked the question.”

“It’s hard to put into Magisterian… The most obvious consequence is I’ll know everything that happens with you out there in the physical world.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

You swallowed uncomfortably. “Even…”

Cirice blushed furiously. “Y-yes, even… that.”

“Well…” You blustered slightly, trying to hide the flush colouring your own cheeks. “…Anything else?”

“It works both ways. You’ll probably find your thoughts drifting to me, often at the most inexplicable times…” Cirice explained.

A helpless chuckle forced its way past your lips, despite your efforts to hold it back. Cirice grabbed your arms forcefully, her face a mask of hurt and anger. “I don’t see what’s so funny about this, Human!”

“No… It’s not that…” You assured the cupid, forcing yourself back to equilibrium. “It’s just… You’re mistaken if you think you’ve ever been far from my thoughts.”

“D-Deniel…” Cirice stammered, her heart in her eyes as her grip softened. “Y-you make it very hard to think sometimes…”

“I trust you…” You assured her. “…and I will hold your trust in me sacred. As sacred as the vows I have sworn before Reitia herself.”

“Then you…”

You gently extricated your wrist from Cirice’s grasp, resting it against her cheek. “I agree, Cirice.”

“Deniel…” Cirice whispered, raising her face to you, her eyes half shuttered. You lowered your face to hers, your lips meeting softly… tenderly…

“Ohhhhh…” Cirice moaned against your mouth, throwing her arms and wings about you as the kiss grew more passionate, her delicate tongue flicking against your lips. “Deniel… my Deniel…”

You were almost overwhelmed as you felt the Cupid’s power flow around and through you, her feelings as evident as if she had screamed them aloud. An unconditional dedication to Reitia, to an extreme which made you almost feel ashamed. An insistent affinity for Love, and the increase of Love… and also a desire, a powerful, yearning desire to know it for herself.

“Sweet Cirice…” You gasped, breaking the kiss and putting your mouth next to her delicate ear. “…Please. Give me the words.”

Cirice put her smooth, finely boned hands on your face, pulling back to stare at you with her luminous eyes as if drinking you in. She briefly touched your lips as if fixing the memory of them in her mind. Her eyes seemed to flare in brilliance, before rolling back in her head.

“Ne Pireda Cirice!”

The sheer POWER of those words drove against your consciousness, the Cupid a tiny island of calm against that Angelic Maelstrom, yet she seemed as open and vulnerable to you as the most innocent of maidens. Your vision darkened, and on sheer instinct, you pressed your lips to hers again, even as reality itself fell away…

<You have learned the LIGHT magic: Summon Cupid - Cirice. Call Cirice from the Myriad Universes of Light to faceroll on a motherfucker. This is taxing on both you and her, however, and exhausting her will render the Angel unable to leave the realm she currently occupies for a decent length of time.

>>385512

“What in the name of Reitia were you tapping into there, Brother?” Thomas chuckled as you regained consciousness.

“Nothing… Everything… Something wonderful.” You sighed reverently, unable to keep the grin from your face.

“You and me both… I don’t know what happened… but the Adept Intersect is mine!” Thomas smiled gleefully. “The power… the POWER! Deniel, my brother… It’s so much more than I could have expected!”

“Praise the All-Mother of Creation.” You intoned instinctively.

“Praise Her indeed…” Thomas agreed. “…Now, let’s see…”

“Fluffy, do you really think you could move that quickly?” Sapphire’s voice intruded from without the room in which you both kneeled.

“Is of not matterings.” Sigurd’s rumbling chuckled mockingly.

“Human… I could EAT you, you’re aware of this?”

“Not if I was of eatings you first…”

Sapphire’s chuckle was slightly desperate. “Prove it… Oh… OH!”

Thomas groaned. “Should we break them up? They’ll be at it for at least a couple of days otherwise.”

“Something tells me they’ll have the rest of their lives to appreciate it…” You chuckled, the warmth of the Cupid’s essence suffusing your very being.

>>385513

“I am not of beings happy about this…” Sigurd snarled, adjusting his clothes as you again emerged from the magcal pool into the depths of the Oannesian temple.

“There are more important things afoot than getting your end away, Captain Sigurd.” Thomas chuckled.

“What happened you?” Sigurd pondered. “Something has of changings with you.”

“Revelation.” Thomas explained simply with a helpless shrug.

Sigurd grunted, sluicing water from his beard before gesturing at the gate. “Well? You can makings opening now?”

“Deniel, I think you’d better begin the cleansing.” Thomas suggested “I’ll try and keep any interference away.”

“You’re the adept, brother.” You reminded your fellow pilgrim… no… not pilgrim… for as adept Thomas was now your superior in the Temple Heirarchy. You ducked your head respectfully. “I mean, not to be disrespectful, Adept.”

Thomas laughed. “I’ve not peeled the packaging off the Adept Intersect for more than an hour or so, Deniel. I’m not about to go putting on airs. No, I ask this, because you have an affinity for the Light and Dark Magics that I’ve honestly rarely seen. My talents lie in other fields.”

“As you will then.” You acceded, clearing your throat and focusing your will on the door. “Holy Mother, bless us Your children, and strengthen our arms and our hearts against all adversity.”

“Glory to the All-Mother Of Creation.” Thomas responded, and you sensed him calling upon his own will in preparation.

Sahnate, Pora, Reitia Dei in Excelsius…

”Itreks-jod!” Sigurd cried, “Lord Corvus, Raven of the North! This darkness has escapings Your Divine imprisonment. I woulds of sending it back to You! I who am blood of the Icelands and the Ruslands! I who am Kin of Your Kin, call upon Your Obligation!”

A fluttering of wings echoed through the vaulted temple, and an ebon bird glided to land upon the Nordenlander’s shoulder. It blinked bright eyes, seeming to study the three of you in turn.

Caw Caw… Caw…

Sigurd took a huge, shuddering breath, letting it out in an almost animalistic growl. You blanched as the big man turned to you, his eyes now black as a coal shaft, smouldering with suppressed power.

“Come, little brothers… Find me something to eat…” Sigurd cozened in a malevolent tone, and you wondered if the words were his or those of whatever had taken residence within him. Nonetheless, you were committed, and you raised your hand to the door.

“NE IALPRG”

As a boy, you had seen a frog caught by a bird, its body held fast beneath a taloned foot as a cruel beak shredded its flesh. You were reminded of nothing so much as the surprisingly loud screams of that frog, as white fire enveloped the gate.

“RRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”, the coarse, disembodied screech rang through the air.

“They’re coming!” Thomas warned, his hands igniting in violet fire.

“Magic not of workings…” Sigurd reminded him, his ebon eyes expressionless.

“KRAKEN Magic.” Thomas recounted. “I don’t think they’re prepared for this.”

Splashing, scrabbling noises were heard from the pool, and you took the chance to glance behind you, and almost regretted doing so, as horrible figures were emerging from the water, fanged, amphibian mouths agape, oozing foul slime as they shambled forward in gleeful anticipation of the kill.

“Ignis Mortalitus…” Thomas intoned, and you felt cold as that violet fire lept forward, engulfing the creatures, wisps of pale energy bleeding like smoke into the air, floating towards the adept as if on an unfelt wind. Far from being discouraged, Thomas greedily inhaled them. “Yes… More, MORE!” He demanded, redoubling his casting.

Sigurd, meanwhile, was moving like a human wrecking ball, not even bothering to draw a blade as he ripped and tore his way through the creatures, at one stage forcibly tearing the slimy, webbed leg from one before beating in the skull of one of its fellows with it. This was no organized battle, this was a slaughter.

>>385514

“Competant…” A new voice intruded, a figure seeming to step from the shadows themselves. “…Though I hardly expected the pretenders to send them so… young.”

“Captain Sigurd, what is that?” Thomas demanded, pointing a flame-wreathed finger at the new arrival, its skin and hair sickeningly pale, its ears hugely deformed, elongated and thinning to points well above the crown of its head, and it’s features were of an angularity to render the being almost alien-looking.

“Not of knowings…” Sigurd admitted, ripping the head from another shambling creature. “…Not of carings.”

“Hold the Fire, Deniel!” Thomas ordered, levitating into the air. “Surely as Reitia gives us strength…”

“N’Tel’Quess Ekee-ra!” The figure snarled, a howling bolt of magic striking SIgurd in the torso and bowling him over, the remaining horrors setting upon him with fervour.

“Reitia!” Thomas gasped in shock.

“Humans…” The figure sneered, its thin arms crackling with alien magics. “…Even at the end of your age you still lack the grace to die… Allow me to remedy that oversight for you.”

<What do?

>Summon Cirice, this bony pointy-eared ass looks prime for an Angelic Boot.

>Concentrate on the Fire, Trust in Sigurd and Thomas to handle this.

>Surrender, plead for mercy, this thing’s fucking badass.

>I sure love the smell of HELLFIRE in the morning, smells like… Victory.

>Something Else?

>>385515

>its skin and hair sickeningly pale, its ears hugely deformed, elongated and thinning to points well above the crown of its head, and it’s features were of an angularity to render the being almost alien-looking.

Fucking. Elves

Call in the angelic SWAT team. This thing needs to be booted back to whatever hell it crawled out of.

>>385515

Right, time to call in our angelic girlfriend to lay down the law on this faggot elf.

>>385515

>Summon Cirice, this bony pointy-eared ass looks prime for an Angelic Boot.

This situation isn't looking too good. I'm not terribly worried about Sigurd. He's a big guy. But if Thomas freezes over and get bowled over just as easily, then we'd be fucked. Especially if anymore of those damn dark elves or whatever show up. I'm hesitant to blow our load calling down Cirice if the creepy elf turns out to be a complete pushover. But it's probably not a chance we should take. If nothing else we can get Cirice to fill us in on what kind of things we'll be facing in the other shrines. Since we'll hopefully get to cuddle and hold hands with talk to her for quite a long while, without reality suddenly evaporating.

>>385515

>Summon Cirice, this bony pointy-eared ass looks prime for an Angelic Boot.

Have Thomas take the fire back, Summon Cirice. Considering Cirice expected us to do this with a bunch of acolytes, or her, we should probably get around to calling her.

>>385515

Going to rely on the guys and focus then call Our wife Cirice incase it really goes down.

Can't wait to see Thomas spaz out when he properly meets Cirice. We have to introduce her as our waifu, for maximum effect. It wasn't long ago that he thought Cupids were merely a metaphor for Reitia's love. I doubt that seeing her feather alone was enough to fully convince him.

>>385515

>>I sure love the smell of HELLFIRE in the morning, smells like… Victory.

Fun fact, if your fire is hot enough it causes a cavitation bubble and basically nukes everything. Puts a nice sear on that fish, just like pops used to do. As the resident pyromaniac engineer, I vote fried squid with elf gibs. I mean how else are you going to deal with degenerates?

>>385515

We should call our girlfriend who is super strong and can beat up anybody because she is so strong

>>385579

>Burn everything

>Including Thomas and Sigurd

Fire doesn't discriminate between friend and foe.

>>385515

what this guy >>385566 said

>Summon Cirice

This was not good. This was NOT good! You released your concentration on the Holy Fire cleansing the door, which understandably began to flicker.

“Deniel, the Fire!” Thomas reminded you urgently.

“We can finish it later.”

Thomas cursed, countering another volley of shrieking arcane bolts thrown by the pointy-eared intruder. “Don’t try to be a hero! You can’t take that thing!”

You knelt, tracing a glowing magic circle in the air before you. “I’m not going to. I’m calling someone who can.”

Thomas snarled, throwing another wave of violet fire, which the creature laughed at, batting the flames aside as if they were a cloud of insects. Thomas seemed to be staggered by this, as if failure had weakened him more than the magic itself. “This is no time for delusions of grand…”

”NE PIREDA CIRICE!” You howled desperately, the breath whooshing from your lungs as the circle shattered to be replaced with an intense, rose-coloured glow. The horrors attempting to savage Sigurd screamed shrilly, covering the multitudinous bulbous eyes atop their flat amphibian heads, their warty, slimy skin sizzling as if blasted by intense heat. Even the lanky, pointed-eared creature shied away, shielding its pale eyes from the sudden glare.

“It… Can’t be!” Thomas gasped, the violet fire around his hands flickering and dissipating. “It’s not possible!”

The light seemed to constrict into a blinding point, a soundless burst of force driving you to the floor, friend and foe alike. You blinked, scrambling to your feet, to see Cirice hovering in the air, clad in shimmering silver armor, elaborately fluted with rose-gold. Her hair shone, as if reflecting an unseen sun, and her wings beat majestically behind her.

“Blessed and Glorious!” Thomas choked, falling on his face and grovelling fervently. Cirice paid him no mind, her luminescent eyes narrowing as they gazed with revulsion on the writhing horrors. Her perfect, lush lips curled away from pearlescent teeth, and she reached forth one mailed hand, curling it deliberately into a fist. Shrieking madly, the creatures writhed, foul smoke billowing from them as fire lept from splitting skin, the horrors consumed with Holy Fire even before they had a chance to crumple in death.

“Vedui’, Yaaraer.” The slender creature drawled almost mockingly, recovering its equilibrium and staring unafraid at the Cupid.

Cirice started, her eyes widening in shock as she beheld the thing. “Sut naa lle sinome?” She demanded, her achingly beautiful voice filled with surprise.

“Lye naa ten’oio…” The creature smirked, striding confidently towards the Angel. ”…lle Edan aute…”

“I’LL EAT YOUR HEART!” Sigurd roared, launching himself at the pointy-eared creature.

“No!” Cirice objected desperately. “Raven-Thrall, your assistance is no longer required.”

The big Nordenlander clutched his guts as if pained, before vomiting a black ichor onto the ground. Gasping, he straightened, blinking as if awakening from a dream. “What… Why you are of taking it aways?!” He demanded, a hint of fear in his baritone rumble.

“Cirice that thing tried to kill us!” You blurt in incredulous amazement. “Why are you…”

“Botuu Edan” The creature smirked mockingly, its angular face staring at you with the kind of expression reserved for noxious vermin. “Yaaraer Tel’Quess’aute yela…”

“I will not!” Cirice stated with the kind of implacable firmness that almost seemed to carry a force of its own behind it. ”…Saesa, pante’lle i’mela en’Reitia!”

“Reitia?” The creature echoed, looking at once surprised and bemused. “Reitia? That pitiful…”

“Have a care creature…” Thomas growled, the air swirling around him as he called upon yet more potent magics.

“You are of even less concern, maggots.” The creature scoffed. “This mutant will learn her place under the True Gods soon enough…”

Sanguine fury clouded your vision, and you felt the Dark Tongue swelling in your throat, begging to be unleashed upon this thing.

“Deniel… would you burn me with him?” She asked, her voice carrying a hint of sorrow as if she read your thoughts.

“Never!” You gasped, thrusting the magic away in revulsion, cursing your own weakness in holding your temper.

“The vermin has control… Or is that your control of it?” The creature mused mockingly. “Needless, it would be a cold day in Corellon’s forge before I ever considered bending the knee to Hereses Dea…”

Cirice shrieked, a bow and arrow appearing in her grip with a flash of light. “Reitia naa oira!”' She hissed, the arrowhead glowing like a tiny star before she released the string, the projectile striking the creature in the chest.

For a moment, the creature seemed puzzled, as if it could not believe something had actually struck it. Then, with a scream, it too burst into white flames, crumbling to fine dust before your eyes.

>>385765

“How could you drive me to this?” Cirice demanded of the ashes, agony in her voice, before bursting into tears, clinging to you as she wept. “Deniel… Why did he make me do it?”

“Cirice, I don’t understand…” you blurted, your hands hesitantly encircling the angel as she clung to you.

“Miracle of Miracles…” Thomas breathed reverently, sinking once again to his knees. “…surely the Holy Mother has…”

“Don’t ascribe Her name to it, Adept.” Cirice shot back with remarkable heat. “For Reitia would never condone me killing an Elf.”

You blinked in confusion, holding the Cupid’s face away from yours and staring at her incomprehendingly. “A… What?”

“Is of not possible…” Sigurd interjected “…Elves are of being extinct. Tyrisian Litanies of Castigation are of making…”

“Don’t speak to me of Litanies, Nordenlander.” Cirice interrupted. “The evidence is there before you… as is the stain on my soul.”

“Cirice…” You murmured, stroking the Cupid’s wings comfortingly “…Whatever he was, he was a servant of Dagon, and you heard what he called the All-Mother.”

“Heretic Goddess… I heard.” Cirice admitted, her voice muffled as she nestled her head beneath your chin. “I was not prepared, Deniel… but I think I shall be, now.”

Thomas coughed uncomfortably, hesitant to interrupt you with an Angel in your arms. You turned your head, looking at him askance, and the adept gestured discretely at the door.

“Cirice…” You began, gently extricating her from your arms “…I need to…”

Cirice made a gesture at the gate with a mailed fist, the stained stone bursting once again into white fire, burning with an intensity you could never dream to match. “And I need you to hold me, Deniel… This world is cold and harsh… and I feel so very alone.”

“Never alone…” You promised the cupid, wrapping your arms around her again. “…Never alone.”

<We’ll call it there for the moment, You’ve got two more gates to open. What would you like to do?

>Ask Cirice more about Elves

>Beg forgiveness and penance for nearly using dark magic again

>Bully Thomas for being a… doubting Thomas?

>Ask Sigurd what the bird and the berserker rage were all about

>Screw talk, keep going.

>Get some more motherfuckers involved. If so, who?

>Something else?

>>385766

Ask about the elves. Always up for a history lesson

And ask for forgiveness for not saging

>>385766

1, 2 and 4. And keep hugging because huggs transition to fuggs

>>385766

>Beg forgiveness and penance for nearly using dark magic again

>Ask Cirice more about Elves

Without releasing your embrace on Cirice, talk to her about these topics. Regardless of how she answers, don't release her until she asks you to. And hold her hand afterwards, unless she stops you.

>>385781

>>385766

We must comfort her. I can only imagine how jarring it must be for her to physically leave the celestial realm. I'm sure she feels painfully disconnected from Reitia's warming presence.

>>385765

On board for this: >>385781

Let us comfort the Cupid. And apologize for almost losing our cool. We need to be more careful.

>Plead forgiveness from Cirice, ask more about elves.

“Forgive me, Cirice.” You begged, holding the angel against you.

Cirice pulled back slightly, looking at you in puzzlement. “For what?”

“I almost used Dark Magic again.”

Cirice giggled, the bridge of her shapely nose crinkling adorably. Reaching up with a mailed finger, she booped you on the nose. “But you didn’t. A true Dark Mage wouldn’t care about the consequences, just the power.”

“Still, I should have more control than…”

Cirice rolled her luminescent eyes. “Alright fine, if you’re so in the mood for penance, you can see to my armor when all this is finished.”

“As you will.”

Thomas was still staring obsequiously at the angel. “Blessed and Glorious, Might I assist Deniel in this most humble of….”

“His penance, Adept.” Cirice answered simply, to which Thomas gave a bitter sigh. Cirice smiled gently. “Thomas, I’m a Cupid, not a Cherubim like you met on the mountain. I’m not going to blow your mind apart for looking at me wrong.”

Thomas nodded his acceptance, resuming his feet. “Well forgive me for remaining a touch overwhelmed… You are a singular presence, after all.”

Cirice gave a slight blush, clinging to you and hiding her face in your chest again. Suddenly, with a grinding rumble, the doors of the abyssal gate swung open. A wall of water stood within, wine-dark and lit by faint flickers of phosphorescence.

“The Gate of The Deeps!” Sigurd declared in relief. “We are on our way to…”

With a splashing and squelching of sodden clothes, something stepped from the water. It was humanoid in shape, yet the details of its figure were hidden by lank, salt-ruined hair and a water-sheeting tricorn hat. It glanced at you, held up a hand for pause, and proceeded to vomit a deluge of seawater onto the stone floor, before drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.

“By gum. The change is always a bastard.” the figure cursed in a voice made harsh with salt. “What in the name of Oannes took you so long?”

“Alright I’m lost…” Thomas declared. “…Who are you?”

The figure cocked his head at Thomas’s blustering demand, before turning to the Nordenlander. “Didn’t you tell ‘em about us, matey?” the figure quipped, grabbing Sigurd by his biceps in rough greeting.

“You are of mistaken…” Sigurd replied, confusion written large on his blond-bearded face. “…I am of not knowings you.”

“You sure. Captain Sigurd?” The figure laughed, removing his tricorn and wiping the lank hair out of his face to reveal a salt-greyed, haggard, but blessedly human face. “You real sure about that?”

“You!” Sigurd exclaimed in shock. “But you were of drownings! Two years ago!”

“So’d Samuel the Caladonian, and that old bugger’s still gonna die warm and fat in his own fuckin’ bed!” the man laughed, clapping Sigurd on the shoulder. “The ‘Daybreak’ foundered in the storm, it’s true, and I resigned myself to facing Ammit in Duat as I sank beneath the waves… But Oannes offered me the choice to live and serve Him.”

“Then you’re…” you gasped in sudden understanding.

“Priest of the Tides. Shepherd of the Leviathan.” The man admitted, affecting a mockingly self-aggrandizing pose before laughing again. “Call me Ishmael.”

>>386289

“Why out here though?” Thomas grunted as your group clambered over the rocks. Atlantea’s docks hazy in the pearlescent mist, the light of morning peeking over the horizon.

“Well it’s easier to get there from the water, but the young lady doesn’t strike me as a swimmer.” Ishmael replied simply, reaching forth a hand to help Cirice up the rocks.

“She is an Angel of Reitia, man! Show some respect!” Thomas retorted hotly.

“C’mon now, I’m sure your friend can woo her just fine without you puttin’ her up on a pedestal…” The tide-priest laughed, hoisting Cirice up onto the rock he stood on. “…She is awful pretty though. If I weren’t happily married, you’d be in trouble, missy.”

“Sir!” Cirice chided, striking the man on the chest. “Have you no shame?”

“Not a skerrick!” Ishmael laughed, patting the Cupid on the hand warmly. “Drives the wife to distraction atimes, I’ll admit.”

You took up position beside her, staring at her in puzzlement. Her armor still shone, her wings were still as majestic as ever, yet Ishmael didn’t even seem to notice her obviously inhuman appearance. “Cirice, what…”

“Shhh…” Cirice hushed you, putting a mailed finger to your lips before taking your hand in hers. “…I’m in disguise.”

You blinked in amazement. “You can do that?”

“You can’t?” Cirice asked you ingenuously.

“I’ve never found the need to try.” You admitted, letting the matter drop. Even through the mail, Cirice’s hand felt very warm in yours. “Cirice, I was wondering… I don’t want to poke at a fresh wound, but…”

“Elves.” Cirice finished for you, her luminescant eyes downcast. “What do you know about them?”

“Only what I learned in the Abbey.” You admitted. “Which, as it turns out, was after, well… after Kimmy… I wasn’t really paying much attention at the time.”

“Understandable. You’re aware then, that the Tyrisian Church shoulders the blame largely upon Humanity?”

“I know the Litanies and Lamentations.” You agreed. “All Abbey-born do. We bear the shame and the guilt for their extermination.”

“You shouldn’t. It’s a terrible thing for you Humans to put upon yourselves. Ilias was wholly responsible… You’d know her as God-Before-Tyris.” Cirice explained, squeezing your hand briefly in hers. “She made a Harem of their males, even though her affections inevitably resulted in their total annihilation, then forcibly ascended Elven maidens, turned them into Angels of all choirs…”

You swallowed. “Even Cupids?”

“Maybe?” Cirice admitted, turning her head to you as if searching for assurance. “We aren’t ‘born’ like mortals. All I remember of my ‘youth’ is warmth and light… and then suddenly I was ‘me.’ I really don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured her, patting her arm with your free hand.

“But you see why killing that one back there was such a problem.” Cirice continued, offering a small smile of gratitude at your comfort. “Was I killing a friend? A brother? Reitia forbid… a lover?”

“The Holy Mother would never put you in that position.” You retorted quickly.

“Mother Reitia offers us freedom similar to yours, Deniel.” Cirice explained. “As long as the end result be Love, and the increase of Love, She’s not much concerned with our methods.”

You paused as that sank in. “So you’re not here because She commanded it, but because you wanted to be here?”

“At first I wanted to see what the Celestials and the Umbrals were all put out about… Your past is an… interesting tableaux, it’s true. But then? I… I don’t know… You made me… feel something…”

“One day…” You smiled softly, raising the cupid’s mailed hand briefly to your lips. “…I’ll get a straight answer as to what they did to me.”

“One day.” Cirice agreed. “But not today. Dagon may be a shadow of his former self, but this is not a fight you need to be distracted in.”

“Agreed.” You nodded, squeezing the Cupid’s hand as you spied Ishmael beckoning you towards the mouth of a cave nestled amongst the rocks.

>>386290

“This is strange.” Thomas murmured, looking at the oddly circular formation of the cave, water sloshing about your ankles.

“It is.” You agreed. “Ishmael what causes a cave such as this?”

“From what I’ve been told, pilgrim, this used to be part of an ancient city that once stood here. These tunnels stretch for miles around, and can be something of a maze if’n you don’t know where you’re going.” The Tide-Priest replied without turning, striding comfortably forward through the weedy, slimy brine.

“Why would the ancients build all this underground?” Thomas mused.

“Harpies were of harassing them, maybe?” Sigurd pondered, somewhat subdued after Cirice had torn Corvus’s blessing from him. You hoped the man was alright, he didn’t look like one frequently given to such introspection.

“Is that Magisterian?” Thomas asked, peering at some carved letters in the rock “A… C… M… U… Acmu? What’s an Acmu?”

“Who knows?” Ishmael shrugged. “Atlantea taps into ‘em for the sewage system, to be perfectly honest.”

“Eurgh!” Cirice squealed, looking down at her feet in horror.

“At ease, little lady…” Ishmael laughed. “Cave-ins have separated those tunnels from these centuries ago.”

“Thank Reitia…” Cirice sighed.

“Here we go.” Ishmael continued, gesturing at a thick wall of bound weeds. “Gate of the Neap Tide. Open… Hey… OPEN!” Ishmael ordered, smacking a hand against the rubbery weed wall.

A foul-smelling, leathery strand of kelp lashed out, missing the Tide-Priest by a hair’s breadth.

“Corruption…” Cirice hissed.

“Let me…” You insisted, focusing on the kelp. “NE IALPRG”

You were expecting the frog-scream from the previous gate, but the shriek which rang from the kelp as white fire sprang up its length took your breath away… It seemed impossible, but the scream which rang from the kelp belonged to a woman.

“Ishmael!” the voice screamed “They’re KILLING me!”

“Shimetta!” Ishmael gasped, blanching at the voice. “Pilgrim! Stop!”

>Stop the fire, find another way

>This is a trick, keep the fire going

>Try and talk to the kelp

>Don’t listen to her, she’s obviously corrupted, but maybe there’s another way to purify her…

>Something else?

>>386291

>Have Cirice flash-fry it is of course an option

>>386291

>Something else?

This is clearly someone Ishmael knows. We should immediately stop the fire and try talking to her. And we should ask Cirice if she can purify the corruption without harming the woman.

>>386291

Stop the fire, it could be a trick but we can't take the risk

>>386301

I suspect that it is his waifu, turned into a kelp monstergirl, then corrupted. But it could also be a trick, preying upon a weakness of his. Regardless, I'd imagine that Cirice will be able to determine the true nature of it. There is little to fear if she is around.

>>386290

>Stop the fire

>Try and talk to the kelp

>>386291

stop the fire but keep an eye out for shenanigans

>Stop fire, try talking

Obviously there's more going on here than we know about. Let's try getting more info. Worst comes to worst, fire is a fallback option.

>Stop the fire, try and talk to the Kelp.

“Reitia’s Mercy!” You gasped, dousing the cleansing fire immediately. “I didn’t realize…”

“You wouldn’t have, I didn’t…” Ishmael admitted woefully. “Shimmy, love, I’m so sorry, what hap…”

“Shut your festering breath-hole, you limp puke.” The kelp snarled back, two more strands of foul-smelling weed reaching hungrily for the tide-priest, lashing in impotent rage at the air. “You let that snotling mage set me on fire, and the best you can do is ‘Sorry’? Why aren’t you killing them right now?”

“Shimmy, they’re…”

“DON’T CARE!” The Kelp growled. “Kill them! Kill them now! If you loved me you’d kill them!”

“Bloody hell!” Ishmael blustered incredulously “What the arse has gotten into you girl? We’re trying to let Oannes back…”

“Fuck that face-finned father-fucker.” Shimetta spat, one of the weedy tendrils dropping a blob of foulness into the water with a wet plop as if driving home that statement.

“You don’t mean that.” Ishmael replied in a low, dangerous voice.

“Why not? Dagon’s not forcing me to guard his temple… Dagon didn’t keep you away from me for days on end…”

“Dagon had me locked in the deeps for two straight MONTHS, Shimetta!” Ishmael retorted hotly, holding his greyish salt-leached arms out in front of himself. “Waves and Tides girl, LOOK at me!”

A female face poked briefly through the wall of kelp. She would have been pretty, you noted with detached abstraction, if not for the gobbets of green and brown foulness leaking from every orifice on her face.

“At least now you don’t look like an Alp in training, you soft-faced nancy.” The kelp-girl sneered “I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”

Cirice recoiled as if she had been physically struck, and Ishmael’s pale features blanched even whiter, if such was possible. “Take that back.”

Shimetta smiled, revealing stained teeth dripping foulness. “Oh sweetie… didn’t we promise to always be honest with each other?”

Ishmael’s eyes narrowed, his lip curling. “I am sick and bloody tired…” he began “…of forever being the one at fault in this marriage! Do you know how many teeth I knocked loose of smug fuckers telling me I could do better than some wimpy flow-kelp? What I’ve given for you? What I’ve done for you? Well fine, if you’re done then that’s just FINE WITH…”

“Stop!” Cirice screamed, her voice reverberating in the closeness of the tunnel, driving you all to your knees with its volume. “Look at your leg, Tide Priest!”

“Eurgh…” Ishmael grunted, looking down at his leg where the corruption that had dropped into the water was now seeping like a slime-mold up the man’s calf. “That’s a good spot there… BY THE TEMPEST!” Ishmael gasped, staggering backwards with wide eyes away from the Cupid. Evidently, Cirice had dropped her disguise.

“Look out!” Thomas cried, reaching out futilely as the Kelp seized the opportunity to wrap those foul tendrils about Ishmael’s arms and throat.

“You’ll see… I’ll show you…” Shimetta promised, moving her humanoid body through the mass of weed until her head rested above his. Her slime-stained eyes rolled back in her throat and she began gagging, before vomiting a torrent of foulness all over the Tide-Priest.

“In the name of Reitia…” Cirice intoned, a shimmering bow forming in her outstretched hand. “…I will not let Love be diminished.”

“Blessed and Glorious!” Thomas gasped in horror “You can’t just kill them!”

“Kill them?” Cirice echoed. “I’m not going to kill them.” The Cupid took a shining arrow from her quiver, the tip glowing with that gentle rose-coloured light that permeated her being. Drawing the bow, she sighted briefly along the shaft before letting the arrow fly. You gasped in alarm as the arrow pierced both Priest and Kelp, both of them crying out as the shaft impaled them.

“Heaven’s Lancet compels you, creature. Speak your name.”

“mglagln lw'nafh'nahor hnah” The conjoined voices of the Kelp and Tide-priest snarled, their mouths twisted as one into sardonic smiles.

>>386764

“Deniel, you’ll have to translate for me.” Cirice mentioned aside, as casually as if she had asked you to open a window.

“What? I can’t!” You blurted desperately.

The Cupid smiled, reaching up to stroke your cheek with a mailed hand. “Yes you can. You know the Dark Tongue… You’ve just been made to forget it.”

“Like so much else, it would seem…” You remarked in a surly mutter. “…I think it said ‘Away weak thing’.”

“Expected.” Cirice nodded, before clenching her fist, the arrow struck through Human and Mamono blazing like a ray of sunlight. “Your Name!”

”REEEEEEEEE… gnaiih Dagon h' fm'latgh!” The duo shrieked.

“Father Dagon… It Burns…” You repeated dutifully, the words coming unbidden to your lips, as if you translated by instinct instead of conscious thought.

“Give. Me. Your. Name.” Cirice commanded, every word accompanied by a new flare of light.

”REEEEEEEEEEE! N'ghanglui! N’ghanglui! Ya yaah ah N'ghanglui.”

“Plague, Plague, my name is Plague.”

“Of course it is…” Cirice sighed, her expression downcast as if she had received bad, but not unexpected news. After a moment, she straightened, her eyes firm with resolve. “I abjure thee, Plague, thrice-damned and spurned by the Heel of Maou. Return to the Malebolge or Burn.”

“Mg!” Ishmael and Shimetta coughed simultaneously.

“No.” You shrugged.

Cirice brought her mailed hands together before her chest. The air positively thrummed with power, and you instinctively braced yourself, gesturing for Sigurd and Thomas to get behind the Cupid. The men had barely rounded the Cupid’s wings before she brought them forward, a howling whirl of white fire shrieking as it tumbled towards the kelp, igniting it in an inferno so bright you had to shield your eyes. As it died, you espied two prone figures in the shallow water, and between them, the ugly, bloated form of one of those frog-creatures, yet larger than the swarming creatures from the pool-room, with elaborate fins encircling its scorched head. It gaped a wide, fanged mouth, the broad philtrum running all the way up to its blood-oozing nostrils.

“Gentlemen.” Cirice gasped, leaning on you heavily. “Please send it the rest of the way for me.”

Sigurd did not reply, but merely stomped up to the creature, driving that wicked-looking knife through the top of its skull, the shining metal clearly visible in its slime-dripping maw as it emerged from the roof of its mouth. The creature shuddered once, then collapsed into a boneless heap in the shallow water.

“Ooh dat be some badwon ting.” A new voice interjected as the scorched and withered kelp fell away, to reveal the tunnel opening up onto the pool-dotted sand of an impossibly low tide, a Crab-Girl standing on its threshold, staring at you curiously as she clacked her claws.

“We’re right next to Atlantea.” Thomas remarked in puzzlement “Where did this beach come from?”

“Be askin’ de wrong questions, magic-mon.” The Crab-Girl giggled, stretching her nut-brown torso deliciously. “Be payin’ attention to de wrong side of… Oh Grandfather Ocean! What be happenin?” She gasped, noticing the bodies of Ishmael and Shimetta lying prone in the water.

“A Plague.” Cirice murmured, clinging to you as if intensely weary. “One of the things Maou kept imprisoned in Hell.”

“A dead god, an elf, and now something that should be locked up in hell? No prizes for guessing this is all connected.” Thomas mused.

“‘Ere me now!” The Crab-Girl chided, scooping up the Tide Priest in one claw and the diminished form of the Flow-kelp in the other. “Be time later for de philosophy. Gettin dese two onto de warm sands now, dey be weak as de baitfish.”

“Will they be alright?” You asked concernedly.

“Dey gonna sleep some. Big longtime. Tree days, maybe four?” The Crabgirl pondered. “Gonna make de bubbles, soothe de pain.”

You glanced over to the big Nordenlander, who was yanking his knife from the plague’s fetid skull. “Captain Sigurd, do you know where the third gate is?”

“No little brother. I am of only knowings the one.” Sigurd admitted with a shake of his head, wiping the blade free of foul blood as best he could.

“Then we need him.” Thomas concluded resignedly.

“We do.” You agreed.

>Heal the Tide Priest, let the Kelp recover naturally

>Heal them both

>Wait the four days on the magical crab-beach you haven’t slept in a day and a night yourself.

>Try and find another option. You’re two for three, the froggy cunts are bound to make a mistake.

>Something else?

>>386765

Lets heal them both quickly. If the servants of Dagon weren’t aware of us before they sure are now. Time is of the essence and we need to get to the next gate ASAP. We can sleep later.

>>386765

If Cirice still has gas left in the tank we should go with healing both of them, and push to end it now. If she's on empty our odds a pretty shit, I think. In that case, we should wait it out and let everybody recharge.

>>386765

>Heal them both

But I disagree with >>386770 about immediately taking off again. Cirice needs time to recover from the last battle. Deniel will also need to rest for a while after healing them.

>>386782

I can't say for fact, but Cirice already seems quite worn out.

If we heal them we'll probably just fall down from exhaustion ourselves. Let the Rastacrab do her work, help her where we can, but focus on making sure the rest of the party rests and recuperates as well.

So in terms of gluing down a more concrete consensus, what I'm getting from you is basically;

>You and Thomas dump what heals you have left into both Ish and Shimmy

>Take the day to recuperate, go back to frogstomping tonight.

Is that about right?

>>386846

More or less, but I'd rather fight them during the daytime, for all the good that'll do us.

>>386849

As in, rest for a day and a night

>>386846

Sounds about right, assuming our pretty pink Cupid is pretty worn out right now. I'd also really like to know more info about the limitations on how long Cirice can stay and how long it takes her to recover. Since we have a bit of downtime.

>>386849

Fighting the next day sounds good.

>>386851

>How long can cirice stay, what's the limits of her power

In character, not even she knows, she's never done this before.

Out of character, I'm kind of testing the balance of making her a viable artillery strike without having you lot just call on her for everything.

>>386854

Well, I certainly don't want to only rely upon her for everything, even though she is turning out to be pretty great waifu material. And I don't want to tell you how you should handle her. But…I don't think it would be unreasonable for her to require some amount of time physically basking in Reitia's loving presence, in order to fully recharge her magical power. Like I think she ought to be able to recover to some extent in the mortal world as well. Just not as much as she could in the celestial realm. Probably recovering with increasingly diminishing returns until she goes back to truly recharge. I'd probably handle it somehow like that. Do what you wish! That's just my thoughts on an angelic being like her.

>>386856

Magic recharge seems like a good way to go about it, her just being flat out unable to exist in our realm for more than a few days at a time feels like too much of a handicap for her. Better to have her slowly go from juggernaut to pretty girl with wings until she returns to her angelic realm

>>386849

This is good.

>>386854

>>386858

Yeah, I'm not sure. One thing I like about this though, is that if she's something like a being that is literally sustained/empowered by love, it can be waved off/lessened in importance once she takes a husband (Read: Deniel), since they'd be directly supplying love to her.

>>386858

She could still regain her mana like normal, up to her current limit, but effectively reduce her maximum mana over time. You could make it simple by saying she loses around 25% of her maximum mana every 12 hours in the mortal realm. Then it takes her around 14 days to fully recover her mana capacity, if fully diminished. Then you could summon her every 2 weeks to come wreck shit for a couple days. Or summon her once a week to wreck shit for only 1 day before she returns (this is probably optimal). Of course, these numbers could be balanced however OP wanted. It's just ideas.

>>386878

It would be cute to have her regain her mana faster in the mortal realm if Deniel dotes on her.

Sorry about the delay guys. Junkie 3dpd has been stumbling through my bros wrecking shit and I'm fucking drained trying to help them soak the fallout as well as show the fuck up to work. Update soon.

>>387279

No problem. Thanks for the heads up, it's appreciated.

>>387279

get her high as fuck, drive into the outback. then lather her up in BBQ sauce and leave her for the dingos. problems solve themselves if you use the right touch.

>You and Thomas dump heals into Ish and Shimmy, then take a day to recover

“We should be of finding shelter.” Sigurd murmured, squinting at the suddenly bright sky as you emerged onto the beach.

“Ere mon, why so?” The Crab-girl asks in puzzlement, her dirty-blonde hair a curious contrast with her brown skin.

“The sun wills be burnings…”

“Hah!” The Crab-girl snerked. “You no worry north-mon. Sun dere no burn you.”

“Maybe not of you, Mamono…” Sigurd scoffed.

“It no be burnin’ you, human…” The Crab-girl insisted, pointing at the faint sillhouette of two figures cavorting in the distance on the beach. “…Because it no be burnin’ dem.”

You squinted, trying to make out details of the pair. “Who are they?”

“Memories.” The Crab-girl replied simply. “Of ‘is dreamin’.”

“Whose dreaming?”

The Crab-girl rested the pair in a shallow tide-pool, trapped baitfish flailing valiantly to avoid the new intruders to their realm. “Oannes. De ocean be a cruel and unforgiving place yah. Dere be only one law. Who be eatin’ who?”

You frowned in puzzlement as the Crab began flexing the chelicerae at the fore of her shell, a positive wealth of pearlescent foam boiling forth to cover the surface of the pool. “I don’t see what that has to do with…”

“Course ya nah see. Ya nah be knowin’ Oannes. De sea be cruel… But Oannes was a man before ‘im becomin Grandfadda Ocean… ‘im be many tings, but cruel? ‘Im never cruel… and in ‘im dreamin’, ‘e rememberin’ life… Rememberin’ Love.”

“I can feel it!” Cirice exclaimed, floating into the air and spreading her arms. “Merciful Mother… How great your grace…”

“Cirice?” You exclaimed, slightly alarmed. The Cupid ignored you, turning her face to the sun, the glow around her pulsing like a heartbeat.

“She nah be wrong.” the Crab-girl admitted. “De Healer… She takin’ power from dem claws of Ammit… Put it into Oannes… Made ‘im God. She be afearin’ ‘im lose de memory of Love. But Oannes nah forgettin’ it.”

“So this…” Thomas interjected “…all of it… this is Oannes’s dream?”

The crabgirl smiled, her teeth brilliantly white in her delicate brown features. “Yah mon.”

“It feels so real…” The Adept remarked absently, scooping up a handful of wet sand and working it slowly through his fingers.

The Crab-girl picked up a flailing baitfish that had launched itself from the pool, flopping and gasping on the sand. “Your dreams be greater than de fish, yah? To Oannes, in dis place, you be de fish.” As if to drive the point home, she popped the small fish into her mouth, swallowing it whole.

“That seems almost a sacrilege…” You chuckled helplessly.

“Is life.” The Crab-girl shrugged. “Dis be ‘im dreamin’. De Deeps, dat be de real. De Spring tide? Dat where de worlds be meetin’ and mergin’ like de water merges wit de land.”

“We are of beings safe here?” Sigurd asked, peering about suspiciously.

The Crab-girl nodded, pushing Ishmael and Shimetta beneath the blanket of bubbles. “Dis be a place of peace. No ‘arm be comin’ to you and yours, north-mon.”

“I goings to find food.” Sigurd declared, obviously still unconvinced.

“De fish are…” The Crab-girl began.

“I am of not wanting to be eatings tiny fish.” Sigurd snapped, as if the very concept offended him, before stalking towards a thick copse of swaying pines.

“‘Im be hurtin’…” The Crab-girl sighed “…Somethin’ be tearin’ ‘im off ‘im course.”

“He’s a Corvidian.” You offered.

The crab-girl shook her head, dirty blonde locks bouncing with her movement. “No… ‘im tied to de Raven by de blood, by de Culture… ‘im not knowin’ what ‘e is.”

“Do you feel that, Deniel?” Thomas insisted, breaking your reverie as he pointed at the glistening foam.

“Feel what?” You replied absently, focusing on the foam. You sensed energy there… flowing… gently lapping like the tiny waves of a sheltered lagoon. Understanding sparked within your mind, and you nodded. “Healing.”

“Madam…” Thomas began.

“Pipina.” The Crab-girl interjected with a smile.

“Pipina.” Thomas echoed. “This can be sped up… Heal them faster… I want to…”

“We.” You added. “We would like to help.”

“Sure you have enough in you, Deniel?” Thomas asked with concern.

You grinned, kneeling beside the pool and reaching out your hands.

>>387385

“Stars’re pretty…” Thomas slurred as he collapsed onto the sand, groaning as he stretched out, his hands behind his head.

“Yeah…” You agreed, trying valiantly to keep your equilibrium as you gazed myopically into the multi-hued magnificence of that void-sea that stretched from horizon to horizon, a belt of pale luminescence broken only by the occasional streaking flash of a shooting star.

“Deniel?” Cirice’s voice seemed to come from nowhere, as with a soft whooshing of wings, the Angel alighted on the sand beside you.

“How’re you feeling?” You slurred, blinking owlishly at the Cupid.

“Never mind me, silly.” Cirice chided gently. “You look fit to drop!”

“M’ok.” You insisted. “Gotta help you with your armor.”

“Deniel…” Cirice giggled as you clumsily pawed at a shoulderplate, searching for a strap.

“S’alright… My penance…” You insisted, blinking deliberately as you forced your eyes to focus.

“Deniel!” Cirice repeated, putting a hand against your chest. “I was being facetious.”

“I don’t…” You began, before your breath left your lungs in a strangled gasp, as Cirice’s armor dissipated in a whirl of shimmering light, leaving the Cupid clad in that sheer samite shift.

“Still not used to it then?” Cirice teased.

“You’re being horribly mean.” You moaned helplessly.

“I know…” The Angel agreed, putting her arms around your neck.

“Thomas’ll have kittens if he sees us like this.” You remarked somewhat bemusedly, no longer able to tell where the Cupid’s glow ended and the stars’ began.

Cirice smiled, glancing over to where the adept snored peacefully on the sand. “I think we’re fairly safe.”

“Says you…” You remarked breathlessly, your heart hammering at the proximity of her lips. In your dreaming, you had a certain level of detachment, but here, you were keenly aware of your body, and even more keenly aware of Cirice’s pressed against you.

“Well then…” Cirice drawled, flapping her wings once.

You were standing at one point, you’re sure of that, and yet here you were, lying on the beach with your head in the Cupid’s lap, her delicate hands stroking your hair and face.

“You cheated.” You accused.

“Of course I did, Deniel.” Cirice admitted shamelessly, bending over you and gently brushing your lips with her own.

“Serious now…” You insisted, forcing fatigue away valiantly. “…You did a lot today…”

“Oannes’s dreaming helped… More than I expected…” Cirice explained. “I let the love of his memory flow through me, replenishing me enough to cross the worlds again, if I needed.”

“You’re going then?” You asked, your heart sinking in your breast.

“Do you want me to?”

“No” The word was out of your mouth before you had a chance to think on it.

“Good…” Cirice smiled smugly, raising your head gently “…Do you see?”

The glimmer of a driftwood fire shone against the backdrop of night, somewhere between ground and sky. “I see it… What’s happening?”

“Another memory, of a different kind of Love…” Cirice murmured, laying your head in her lap again and kissing you, more seriously this time. “…And it is very, VERY infectious.”

“Cirice…” You gasped, your heart hammering again in your chest. “…I’m sworn to chastity… but if you keep kissing me like that I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.”

“Deniel…” Cirice murmured softly, her lips almost touching your ear. “…Right now… I don’t think I’d want you to stop yourself.”

“I have sworn…” You groaned helplessly, your body singing with need.

“Shhh…” Cirice hushed you gently, stroking your face and hair again. “Sleep, my sweet Deniel. Sleep…”

>>387386

“Up!” Sigurd’s harsh voice brought you back to wakefulness. For a moment you didn’t remember where you were, and then memory flooded back with the gentle light of early morning.

“Where’s Cirice?” You murmured, absently shaking sand from your hair.

“Angel is of talking to Ishmael and the weed-girl.” Sigurd replied, before holding a red, chitinous limb out to you, white meat steaming from where it peeked through the cracked carapace. “Eat.”

“You didn’t!” You gasped, recoiling in horror.

“Didn’t of what?” Sigurd frowned in puzzlement. “Is Sidecrawler. Was of brainings it when it tried to eat me. So much for peaceful place.”

“Don’t be talkin’ bad now about dis place.” Pipina’s voice interjected, filling you with a rush of relief. The Crab-girl picking her curious gait over the sands towards you. “You be wantin’ a fight all straight up, Oannes ‘e be givin’ you it. Eat and be thankful, north-mon.”

“I’m sorry, Sigurd.” You offered sincerely, taking the limb in hand and forcing the carapace open further, your stomach growling as the smell of the meat met your nostrils.

“You think I was of eatings the Crab-girl?” Sigurd inquired, a blonde eyebrow raised. “Little Brother…”

“I know, I know, it’s a horrible thing to think.” You admitted, tearing at the flesh eagerly. “In my defense though, I just woke up.”

“Well…” Sigurd admitted with a lecherous grin. “…If she was of unmarried, maybe…”

“You’re a bad man, Captain.” You chuckled helplessly.

“Am not of ever pretendings otherwise.” Sigurd drawled smugly as he walked away.

The flesh of the crablike monstrosity, a known pest in the tropical isles off the coast of the westerlands, was sweet and filling, and you were filled with vigour as you threw the remainder of the carapace into a nearby tidepool for smaller scavengers to consume.

“You’re pulling me leg.” Ishmael declared incredulously as you approached, the pale, weed-shrouded form of Shimetta clinging to him.

“I’m serious, Tide-Priest.” Cirice assured him. “There was an Elf guarding the Gate of the Deeps.”

“By the Weedy Bollocks of Oannes…” Ishmael cursed. “…That’s a fuckin’ thing… How could Dagon have brought them back?”

“Did Dagon bring the Elves back?” Thomas interjected, “or did the Elves bring Dagon back?”

“What makes you say that?” You ventured.

Thomas grinned at you in greeting. “Deniel! Morning sleepyhead! You missed the Dolphins!”

“What’s a Dolphin?”

“Like a fish, but not.” Ishmael ventured, scratching his head.

You cocked your eyebrow. “How so?”

“Well they’re chattery little buggers, and I’ve never met a fish that could carry a conversation worth a damn.” Ishmael explained.

“They’re warm-blooded, like humans.” Shimetta added. “Smart too… They love the Mermaids to distraction.”

You smiled at the kelp girl. “Good to see you back, madam.”

“Hi.” Shimetta replied shyly, hugging herself closer to the Tide-Priest. “I’m sorry if I…”

“What’d I say love?” Ishmael blustered, taking the Kelp-girl’s face in his hands. “Flotsam under the waves. Forgiven, Forgotten.”

“He’s right, Madam.” You agree. “That wasn’t you, that was what that thing was forcing you to do and say.”

“Ishmael, I know it’s a lot to ask…” Thomas began.

“No!” Shimetta cried, enfolding her husband in limb and frond.

“Now love don’t start…” Ishmael chided gently, kissing the kelp on her soft, green-tinged lips. “…It’s all part of the job, and I owe Dagon a good sailor’s boot up the jacksie for the bullshit he put you through.”

“Come back to me?” Shimetta begged, releasing the Tide-Priest reluctantly.

“Sure as the tides, Shimmy.” Ishmael promised her, kissing her again. “Sure as the tides.”

>>387387

“What the dickens happened here?” Thomas gasped, seeing the general carnage strewn throughout the once-elegant taproom of the Ruby’s Legacy.

“Not of knowings…” Sigurd admitted. “…am hoping Baron Robbo is of being alright though.”

“Robbo’s a survivor.” Ishmael insisted. “Bastard Australian’s too fuckin’ sour to die.”

“He seemed very congenial to me.” You remarked in puzzlement.

“Must’ve made a good impression, Pilgrim.” Ishmael chuckled, opening a heavy oak door beyond which a stone staircase led down below the establishment.

“It was of beings here the whole time.” Sigurd growled in frustration as you descended the staircase.

“You weren’t to know, Captain.” Cirice assured him.

The big Nordenlander grunted, but said nothing further.

Your footfalls were hollow as you descended further into the chamber, dim, green light glowing from below.

“This is…” A female voice echoed from below. “…as we put it in The Australs, fuckin’ berko.”

“Ellie…” Thomas gasped in surprise.

“It couldn’t be!” You insisted “Even the Circle would not be so grasping as to associate with…”

“I near on had her tongue in my ear a couple nights ago, Deniel.” Thomas retorted in a low voice. “I’d recognise her voice anywhere.”

“You have heard my betrothed…” a rich, deep voice chuckled. “…Can there be any doubt as to the rightness of Lord Dagon’s cause?”

“You SURE about this, Sea-Witch?” Ellie’s voice insisted.

“It is as my betrothed has said…” Another woman’s voice replied, yet the tone was tired… hopeless.

Sigurd stiffened as if he had just been impaled by a shaft of white-hot steel. “That is…”

“Sapphire.” Thomas finished for him, horror dripping from his voice.

Sigurd’s lips peeled back from his teeth, a resonant growl building in his chest as he violently yanked that cruel knife from its sheath, murder writ large in his eyes.

>Let Sigurd go Berzerk on whatever and whoever’s down there.

>Convince him to stay put, this is still a whole pile of variables and you don’t know how many circle mages are with Ellie

>Charge with him, it’s time to fuck shit up

>Get Cirice to lead, we need firepower at the van

>Enter as one, but calmly, denounce them for their vile Heresy.

>Something Else?

>>387388

>Something Else?

We need to remain calm, so we don't needlessly antagonize them and escalate the situation. Prepare for battle, but don't immediately attack unless we are attacked first. Calmly enter as one and demand to know what the fuck is going on. I suspect this situation is more complicated than we realize. And attacking a circle mage without provocation is crazy, even if she is getting herself involved in things she shouldn't.

>>387388

>Enter calmly and denounce them

They get one shot to explain themselves, then burn the place down.

>>387388

Denounce them. Nobody expects the Reitian Inquisition

>>387414

Pretty well this. Be on guard, have Cirice on point.

>Be on guard, enter calmly, confront whoever’s below.

“Sigurd!” You hissed, grabbing the Nordenlander by the wrist.

“Do not of trying to stop me, little brother…” Sigurd snarled.

“Wouldn’t think of it.” You assured him “But let’s go together. Calmly.”

The Nordenlander’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why?

“Because we don’t know what the mages have been told. And if there’s one thing on the face of this world you don’t want to meet, it’s a spooked mage.”

“Maybe a spooked Resonant…” Ishmael interjected with a mocking drawl.

“Not helping, Tide Priest.” You muttered irritably.

“Dunno what you’re getting so stroppy about, matey.” Ishmael quipped. “Way I see it I’ve got the right to blithely walk up to whatever prick’s decided to set up shop in my Master’s Temple and feed him to a fucking giant starfish. This is, as the good Tyrisians would say, Heresy.”

“Ishmael’s right. And did you hear Sapphire? Does that sound like someone who is overwhelmed by affection?” Thomas added pointedly.

“Of course not but…” You began, before the other shoe dropped in your head with near audible ‘thunk’. “…You’re right, that would count as a crime against Love, wouldn’t it?”

“Damn right it would.” Thomas agreed. “And as an Adept of the Reitian Temple, I have every right under Magisterian Law to demand an explanation.”

“Mother Told Me To.” Cirice adds, stepping forward and forming that elegant bow in her hand once more.

“A revelation, Blessed and Glorious?” Thomas asked hopefully.

“No…” Cirice quipped innocently. “…But who’d gainsay me otherwise?”

“Cirice!” You gasped in shock. “Lying about our Holy Mother?”

“Who’s lying?” the Cupid replied simply “My instructions are the same as yours. Sow Love, and the Furtherance of Love. As Her Beloved Adept so rightly stated, we have a right to a ‘please explain’ here.”

You couldn’t help but notice Thomas preening slightly at being referred to as “Beloved Adept”. A sudden flash of jealousy wormed in your guts, and you tamped it down. You had no right to feel jealous of Cirice acknowledging his accomplishments… Still…

“So we are of cloakings ourselves in mantlings of the righteousness… THEN we kill everyone?” Sigurd clarified in a surprisingly even tone.

“If it comes to that.” Thomas agreed.

“Southerners…” Sigurd sighed, rolling his ice-blue eyes helplessly and jamming the blade back in its sheath.

“As we were then.” Ishmael quipped, striding purposefully down the remaining stairs and into the gaping antechamber. “I hope you lot have got a bloody good…” He began in the bellowing roar that marks the sea-captain, before pausing in his tracks so suddenly you almost collided with him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, following the Tide-priest’s bulging-eyed gaze to where a man stood behind an altar, adorned in golden regalia that was twisted and fretted to resemble thorny corals. Your heart sank like a rock as you noticed, atop the altar, staring blankly ahead with a look of absolute hopelessness, the blue-grey skinned form of the Kraken, Sapphire.

“Justin…” Ishmael snarled. “…You traitorous smeg-ridden fuckin’ CUNT!”

“Ishmael…” the gold-adorned man smirked. “…You’re looking well.”

“Pull your tongue out my arse, rot-fuckin’ abomination!” Ishmael slathered, stalking forward with deadly intent. “The fuckin’ starfish are gonna be too fat to move before this sun sets, so help me Oannes!”

“Peaceful…” Sigurd remarked flatly.

“Did I not tell you, O venerable mages?” the figure Ishmael had called ‘Justin’ remarked, a small gathering of muttering, robed figures looking between your party and the altar. “They come with violence in their hearts, when all we seek is peace.”

“You lie like your whore mother lied when she told your cuck father he was the only man in her life.” Ishmael retorted venomously, before turning to the mages. “Is the Circle so thirsty for the Hidden Secrets that you’ll associate with this… corruption?”

“He turned back those fuckin’ things that caused the argy upstairs… whoever you are…” Ellie retorted. “…And the name ‘Oannes’ is as familiar to me as the name of his ‘Dagon’. The Circle is not in the business of making churchy decisions. He’s promising answers.”

“He’s offering lies, Ellie.” Thomas interjected. “All of us have been led astray by the blasphemous magics of Dagon.”

>>387778

“Thomas, you’re cute, but you’re naught but a… Wait…” The mage trailed off, waving her hand in front of her face as if clearing smoke from the air. “…There’s an angel somewhere here…”

“She’s good.” Cirice remarked.

“Are you in disguise again, Cirice?” You murmured softly.

“Invisible, Deniel.” Cirice corrected, leaning over and brushing her lips against your cheek. “To them, anyway.”

“Once again the Tyranny of Tyris imposes itself upon a burgeoning faith…” Justin lamented. “…How much longer will humanity be oppressed by His jealousy?”

“Here!” One of the Magi interjected. “I didn’t agree to slander against the Most High!”

“And I offered none.” Justin corrected quickly. “Just my despair that a generous and loving God be forbidden to offer His beneficence to Humanity and Mamono alike.”

“Loving?!” Cirice hissed, her teeth clenched and the muscles of her jaw pulled tight in barely restrained rage. “Ohhhh THAT one is not leaving here…”

You ignored the Cupid’s fury, looking instead at Sapphire. Her listless posture seemed profoundly unnatural. Something was wrong here.

“Sapphire…” You called. “…Why have you abandoned Grandfather Ocean?”

“He is Tide Priest…” Sapphire replied without looking at you. “…I am promised.”

That was enough for Sigurd, and with a yell of primal fury, he launched himself forward, gripping Justin with a wide, meaty hand before driving his forehead into the shocked man’s mouth. Justin fell back, spitting blood and teeth.

“Sapphire…” Sigurd whispered insistently. “…You do not of having to do this!”

“I am a Sea Witch…” Sapphire lamented. “…I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes you do!” Sigurd yelled, grabbing the Kraken by her shoulders. “Choose me.”

“But you are not…”

“You are whoevers you are of wantings to be.” Sigurd interjected, ignoring her protests. “I sell Shieldmaiden. We buy house, we sell fish, we make family… Do not be of wasting yourself with that.”

“I… I…” Sapphire stammered, and suddenly you saw the energy snarling and wefting within her.

“Ellie, wasn’t it?” You called to the mage. “I believe that the use of Dark Magic in manner malevolent is a breach of the Circle Code.”

“Yeah Pilgrim, what of it?” Ellie snapped back, her voice quavering with uncertainty.

“Well Sapphire has been cursed with Despair, and the words of the Dark Tongue may as well be written on her flesh!”

>You have learned the DARK magic: Despair - Curses a target with listless depression, makes them amenable to your will.

“Make it go away, little brother!” Sigurd called to you, still holding the Kraken in an iron grip.

“I don’t know how my magic will react with the pact you hold with Corvus!” You replied, fear squirming in your guts.

“I will be of thanking God for the Sufferings, if it brings her back!” Sigurd insisted.

“Deniel…” Cirice gasped. “…He Loves her!”

“If there remained any question…” You remarked softly, reaching out a hand towards the altar. “Ne Ialprg!”

“Ahhhhh!” Sapphire screamed as white fire engulfed the Kraken and Human “It Burns!”

“Be lookings at me…” Sigurd insisted, the fire lapping at his face and beard. “…I…”

“Tell her, man!” Thomas begged.

“I… I am of lovings you…” Sigurd admitted, pressing his lips to the Kraken’s. Sapphire’s tentacles flailed, wrapping seemingly of their own accord about the human as he continued to kiss her in the midst of the inferno of holy fire.

“Stop them!” Justin demanded around broken teeth as he resumed his feet, blood flowing freely from his mouth “They’re ruining everything!”

“Why?” Ellie demanded, folding her arms across her chest. “I know that spell… It only affects Dark Magic… Are you takin’ the piss, Tide Priest?”

Justin snarled, turning towards a wall that seemed to be made of loosely packed rocks “Prepare then to perish all! Cahf ah nafl mglw'nafh hh' ahor syha'h ah'legeth, ng llll or'azath syha'hnahh n'ghftephai n'gha ahornah ah'mglw'nafh!”

“We’d better leave.” A mage declared suddenly as a tremor shook the room.

“Leave?!” Ellie declared incredulously “When that cunt’s just…”

“Ellie.” Another interjected. “This is EXACTLY what the Directives of the Archmagi state, EXPLICITLY, that we DO. NOT. INVOLVE. OURSELVES. WITH.”

“Fuck directives.” Ellie declared.

“I’m with you, colleague!” A mage called.

“Same here! For the Most High!” Another added.

The remainder of the magi began tracing mystical circles around themselves, popping one by one from existence as they teleported away.

“Fucking pussy cunts.” Ellie snarled, focusing on the apostate priest.

“Ellie!” Thomas cried, running over to seize the mage by the wrist. “Wait, we might have a shot at…”

“Don’t go fucking with…” Ellie began, before staggering, her eyes slightly unfocused “…Oooh… Now where have YOU been?”

“Focus, Colleague…” one of the few remaining mages warned.

“I’m focused…” Ellie drawled, raising a hand to caress Thomas’s cheek lingeringly.

“Cirice…” You lamented, looking askance at the cupid.

“Wasn’t me.” Cirice declared innocently, trying in vain to push the quiver of rose-glowing arrows behind herself.

With a rumbling clatter, the rocks collapsed, a hideous, amphibian figure gripping the edges of the sucking, black portal which remained.

“Why do you call to Me?” It demanded, its horrible maw dripping foulness.

“Lord!” Justin cried “These insects seek…”

Suddenly, Sapphire broke the kiss she shared with Sigurd, the white fire flickering and dying around them, before throwing her head back and crying out with a peircing shriek. ”Nishentop Adlantisag, kelobtem Gabrin karoklimik bet gim demottem net getunosentem bernotlimik bet kagib lewidyoh!”

”AAAAAHHHHHHHH!” The hideous form of Dagon roared, shaking the chamber as something seemed to PULL at its form.

“In the Name of Reitia!” Cirice declared, flapping her wings and drawing her bow back, the head of her arrow once again shining like a star.

“Lend me your strength, Mages of the Circle!” Thomas begged, inscribing runes upon the air as fast as his hands could move.

“You heard him…” Ellie drawled dreamily, power flowing from her hands to weave throughout the mystical inscription.

“Colleague, his inscription is not…” One began to object.

Ellie spun around with a murderous glare. “The Kraken got her meet-cute. By Ammit I will have mine, or I’ll consume the lot of you with the Ignis Mortalitus!”

Cowed, the Mages in turn stretched forth their hands, their own power amplifying Thomas’s spell to a frightening extent.

“Perfect!” Cirice declared, and Thomas threw the inscription towards Dagon’s hideous head, Cirice’s arrow leaving her bow, the two drawing closer… closer…

Impact.

Thunder without sound shook the chamber, rocks clattering to the ground as reality itself seemed to warp and weft around the portal.

”It Cannot Be!” Dagon declared, as the scaled, toothed maw of a Leviathan clamped around its shoulder.

“I CONSUMED YOU ONCE…” A new voice declared, as deep and powerful as the waves upon the face of a cliff “…DO YOU SO RELISH THE SENSATION?”

”No! They promised!” Dagon cried, a second Leviathan burying its teeth into its foul throat. ”They… Promised…”

With a final piercing shriek, the remnant of that dead God was dragged into the darkness of the portal, before it too seemed to melt into the foaming and tossing water which crashed against the invisible barrier between the real world and Oannes’s realm.

>>387780

“Grandfather!” Sapphire cried in utter joy, her arms and tentacles releasing Sigurd’s shocked form as she reached yearningly for the now purified Gate of the Spring Tide.

“Reitia protect me…” You moaned as a massive form peered through the portal, its head and shoulders hiding its immensity in the tossing waters beyond.

“RAVEN…” Oannes began, stretching forth a finned and taloned hand to point at the stunned form of Sigurd. “…I REQUIRE THIS ONE…”

A black bird appeared from nowhere, cawing as it circled the vaulted chamber, before alighting upon the ground. Its form shifted, and in its place stood what appeared to be a man, black of hair, with an ebon-feathered cloak draped around his shoulders.

“You know the rules, old friend.” The figure remarked. “An offering must be made in turn.”

“TAKE THAT.” Oannes remarked with revulsion, pointing at the cringing, whimpering form of Justin, his golden regalia hanging unevenly from his body. “FOR IT HAS BETRAYED ME, AND I WOULD NOT LOOK UPON IT FURTHER.”

“The Pact is met.” the raven-cloaked figure remarked simply.

Corvus… ”Itreks-Jod” Sigurd gasped, falling to his knees before the figure “Have I been of failings you?”

“You were never Mine to begin with, Sigurd. Go. Love the sea. Love the witch… Worship Oannes and be happy.” Corvus smiled slightly, before turning his gaze towards Cirice. “Child of Heaven, remember Me unto My Daughter, when you come into Her presence.”

“G-gladly…” Cirice gulped, quailing under the Dark God’s gaze.

“Ah…” Corvus exclaimed, that sardonic smile not leaving his face as he turned to look upon the gibbering form of Justin. “As for you… I have such sights to show you….”

“No! NOOOOOO!” Justin shrieked as darkness enveloped him, before he and the Avatar of Corvus faded from existence.

“SIGURD… DO YOU SWEAR YOUR FEALTY TO ME?” Oannes demanded.

“I will be of giving any oath…” Sigurd replied in a choked voice, unable to tear his eyes from Sapphire “…If I can be of remainings with her.”

“THEN ACCEPT MY POWER AND RISE, TIDE PRIEST!” Oannes declared, the sounds of exultation ringing from the tossing sea behind him, before the vision faded, the rocks floating through the air and sealing the wall once more, until the barrier stood as if it had never been breached.

“You…” Sapphire whispered, awe-struck as she tenatively reached out for the Nordenlander. “…It was always you, wasn’t it?”

“I was not of knowings…” Sigurd admitted, regaining his feet. “…But now I am of knowings nothing else.”

“Sigurd!” Sapphire cried in delight, wrapping arm and tentacle about the big man again, kissing him fervently.

“I… Remember….” You gasped, as memory came flooding back.

“Me too!” Ellie declared. “By gum, what the ARSE carries that kind of power?”

“Deniel…” Cirice whimpered, reaching for you before collapsing to the floor in a dead faint.

“But we saw her do so much more!” Thomas blustered as you tenderly dabbed the cool washcloth against the Cupid’s face.

“Did we?” You replied absently, your fingers running softly through Cirice’s rose-coloured hair. “Can we ever really know exactly what she did? How did you even know to cast the spell?”

“I don’t know.” Thomas admitted. “It was like… Something out of a dream…”

“Bah…” Robbo’s harsh voice sounded from the doorway to the luxurious suite in which the Cupid rested. “…Thank the Gods she gave you what you needed. Now c’mon, the lot of youse. Let’s drink to Oannes and let the girl rest.”

“In a moment, brother mine.” Ellie replied, before turning to Thomas and grabbing the front of his tunic in her hand.

“Ellie, what…” Thomas began.

“You’re Adept.” Ellie interjected. “And no point denying it, it takes one to know one. And I know that means your Pilgrimage is done. Now let me make this clear, I like you, and I want you. And we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way, the choice is yours.”

“Don’t you think we should…” Thomas blustered, his face flaming.

“Shut up.” Ellie ordered, pressing her lips to his forcefuly, before breaking off, her breathing heavy with desire. “Fuck the Circle. Fuck everything… I want you. Just you.”

“I’ve never…” Thomas stammered helplessly.

“Me either.” Ellie admitted, an almost shy smile on her lips. “So why don’t we? Together.”

“Together.” Thomas agreed, allowing the mage to lead him from the room.

“Kids.” Robbo chuckled. “I’ll see you downstairs, Deniel.”

>Leave Cirice to recover, head downstairs with Robbo

>Attend to the Cupid Kiss her gently on the forehead and stroke her face.

>Meditate while you have the opportunity

>Pray to Reitia

>Stop Thomas from fucking the 3dpd

>Where the hell is Sigurd? Go find Oannes’s newest Tide-Priest for more info.

>Something Else?

>attend to the cupid kiss her gently on the forehead and stroke her face

With additional whispers that she did a good job and we're very proud of her

>>387782

>Attend to the Cupid Kiss her gently on the forehead and stroke her face.

Lots of this, until she feels better.

>>387790

>With additional whispers that she did a good job and we're very proud of her

Also a good plan.

>>387782

>>387790

>>387817

Guess we're pampering the cupid. I Approve.

Cupid needs pats for a job well done

Want to go see Robbo

>>387863

And bring me Corvus's wrath for not saging, but not before I say to bless the newly united couple in drink

You know what? You guys have made a whole bunch of Waifu decisions, we’re gonna have this conversation now.

>Comfort the Cupid

“I’ll be a while, Robbo.” You replied, glancing over your shoulder before dipping the washcloth into the basin again, gently dabbing the grime and dust from Cirice’s perfect features.

Robbo groaned, rolling his eyes. “Dammit Pilgrim she’s passed out, not dying. She won’t disappear for your absence.”

“Won’t she? It was very powerful magic called her here… it was even more powerful magic she used against Dagon…” You shook your head determinedly, setting down the washcloth and brushing a lock of rose-coloured hair out of the Angel’s face. “…I remember what it felt like when I thought I had lost her. I couldn’t bear that again.”

“Kids… Don’t do anything stupid.” Robbo warned helplessly, and you heard the door close and the Australian’s heavy, lopsided footfalls descend the stairs.

“Mother?” Cirice murmured, stirring in her sleep.

You smiled softly. Lying here so vulnerable, she seemed almost human. “No Cirice, it’s just me. Go back to slee…”

“I don’t know what to do, Mother.” Cirice continued, seemingly unaware of your assurance. “It’s so hard…”

“Shhh… You were very brave today…” You murmured, stroking the Cupid’s face gently.

“…He makes my heart sing…” Cirice whimpered plaintively “…The way he looks at me… his hands… he’s washing my face right now, back in the mortal world… Oh Mother I want his hands on me, and mine on him! I want him so badly…”

“Reitia’s Mercy!” You choked, your face aflame and your stomach churning with immediate conflicting emotions. Exultation, consternation, anticipation… sheer ball-shrinking terror.

“I don’t see what’s so funny…” Cirice snipped. “…Talking in my sleep? What do you mean I’m…”

Suddenly, Cirice’s luminescent eyes fluttered open. The Cupid blinked, peering about in puzzlement before they focused on you. “D-Deniel? Did I….”

Clearly your crimson features answered for her. Cirice shrieked, the sound making you wince and clasp your hands over your ears instinctively. This of course, did nothing to assuage the Cupid, who immediately put her face in her hands, rolling away from you and wrapping her wings around her body, which shuddered with muffled sobs.

“Cirice, it’s OK, you were just talking in your sleep…” You assured her, stroking one of her wings in gentle comfort.

“I-I’ve r-ruined everything!” Cirice wailed “I-it wasn’t s-supposed to be like thiiiiiiiiis!”

“Ruined? What have you ruined?” You entreated as gently as you could. “You’ve done nothing wrong…”

“B-but I HAVE!” Cirice retorted, turning back towards you and grabbing your hands with hers “I’m tempting you! I can see the way you look at me… Reitia’s Glory, Deniel, I’m in your head, remember? I can see what you want…”

“I’m only human.” You justify lamely, a sheepish grin spreading across your features. “I’m sorry if my stray thoughts are unwelcome. I’ll try and keep my mind under better…”

“That’s just it!” Cirice moaned desperately. “They’re not unwelcome… Because I want it too…”

“You…” You echoed, swallowing nervously.

“You can have me…” Cirice whispered, licking her lips nervously and releasing your hands, sliding the samite shift from her shoulders, her pert breasts lolling free, somehow even more enticing in this dim, mundane light than in the idealized fantasy of your dreaming. “…I’ll be your woman, Deniel… You can take me right here, if that’s what you really want.”

Your mouth was dry, your heart was racing, and you felt a primal, instinctive desire build in your guts and loins. The sight of her, it made you almost hungry, and your hands ached to roam and explore that newly exposed flesh.

>Screw the Pilgrimage, Dick the Cupid.

>Hell no. We are going to abstain and be a proper fucking gentleman until we get the Adept intersect. Still… Nothing says we can’t take responsibility and confess our feelings.

>Be a bit of an asshole, use her desire to get more info as to the angelic fuckabout that is your memory

>Shit got way too real, way too quick. Let her down gently. We don’t want this after all.

>OH SHIT RUN NIGGA!

>Something Else?

>>388096

>Hell no. We are going to abstain and be a proper fucking gentleman until we get the Adept intersect. Still… Nothing says we can’t take responsibility and confess our feelings.

Gotta see our shit through. No reason we can't tell her how it is though.

>>388096

We started this pilgrimage and we need to finish it. It will be all the sweeter if we wait until we unlock the adept intersect

>>388096

Wait until we hit adept.

After that, we can dick her.

>>388096

>Hell no. We are going to abstain and be a proper fucking gentleman until we get the Adept intersect. Still… Nothing says we can’t take responsibility and confess our feelings.

This sounds alright. Say that we don't feel as if we've completely fulfilled our duty to Reitia. But make it absolutely clear that we love her and wish for her to remain near us much as is feasibly possible for the remainder of our pilgrimage. And afterwards, we want to remain with her forever.

>>388096

Continuing from >>388113

We should also ask her about:

>the angelic fuckabout that is your memory

But not in an exploitative way. Only what she is comfortably willing to share. But I would like to learn more about that.

Also, kissing her a lot doesn't break our vow of chastity.

>>388096

We gotta wait until we're a proper wizard to do the horizontal mambo with her. But when we do, the dicking will be thorough and loving.

>>388096

we gotta sit through this pilgrimage properly before we waifu her

also, we have to take her on at least one hundred romantic dates first so we can get to know each other more

>>388096

>forgetting how /monster/ works

picking the "confess feelings but no dickings until we're finished" door. no sense in throwing the adept thing in the shitter along with more chances to lightly bully the cupid over this

>>388135

>no sense in throwing the adept thing in the shitter

The way I see it, we owe it to Cirice to see our journey through until the end, for all the help she has given us. And to Reitia, because we'll be stealing one of her angels for ourselves. Also so we can become strong enough to protect and confidently fight alongside Cirice, if need be. And I'm very curious to learn the truth about our past and these angelic shenanigans.

>No to the dicking, confess your feelings

“Cirice…” You began, cupping the cupid’s face in your hands and kissing her softly “…You can feel how much I want to, can’t you?”

“Yes…” Cirice whimpered, her mouth seeking yours hungrily, her slender hands busy at your torso, sliding into your tunic and caressing the bare skin beneath, the sensation of her touch almost overwhelming your resolve.

“But…” You began, gently fending off her hands with what felt like a herculean act of will, and holding them in yours again.

“But?” Cirice echoed in alarm, pulling her face away from yours, concern writ large in her luminescant eyes.

“If I make you my woman…” You murmured gently, taking her shift and sliding it back over her breasts and shoulders, silently shrieking in your head as her perfect form was obscured. “…I’d rather do it as a Temple Adept. Before an Altar. As your Husband.”

Cirice’s hands flew to her mouth and her wings extended suddenly with a thump of displaced air. “H-husband?!” She squealed.

“It’s presumptive of me in the extreme, I know.” You admitted. “But, when this is all done, when my Pilgrimage is finished… would you consider…”

Something happened, you must have tripped, but suddenly you were lying on your back on the floor of the room, Cirice glowing like a rose-coloured wildfire atop you, her wings mantling you as she panted “Yes… Yes… Yes…”, punctuating every ‘yes’ with another kiss. An odd sense of weightlessness caught you… a moment of vertigo, and suddenly the dimly lit room melted away to be replaced by a tableaux of beauteous wonderment, a sea of stars stretching out all around you, warm webs of energy glowing and congealing as they wove and wefted through realities beyond comprehension.

“Oops.” Cirice murmured, scrambling off you and straightening her shift and smoothing her mussed hair self-consciously.

“Oops?” You echoed. “Cirice what is this place?”

“Somewhere… You’re not really supposed to be…” the Cupid admitted somewhat sheepishly.

“It’s beautiful…” You breathed in amazement. Every movement of your feet sent glowing ripples flowing out into infinity, like you were walking on a lake made of frozen fire. “…Is this your dream, Cirice?”

“N-not mine…” Cirice whimpered, pointing covertly at something… or someone behind you. You swallowed, turning slowly before your breath left your lungs in a strangled wheeze.

She was a rather diminutive thing, her body the shape and build of a young woman, willowy, maidenlike, yet well past the androgyny of adolescence. Two lupine ears the colour of a summer sky poked through hair of the same lapis richness, cascading in a loosely-bound bunch until it almost brushed the ‘ground’ behind her dainty, bare feet. Two large, storm-grey wings rose above her slender shoulders, shifting slightly as she cocked her head, all bemused at you.

“Precious one, how did you get here?” She asked softly, and your mind shied away from the overwhelming POWER of your Goddess focusing Her attention wholly upon you.

“H-Holy Reitia!” You squeaked, falling to the ‘ground’ and grovelling pitifully at her feet.

>>388308

“Darling Cirice, I think I broke your fiancee…” Reitia mused critically as you continued trying to grovel yourself into a hole in the unyielding surface.

“I’m sorry Mother!” Cirice wailed, “I was just so overwhelmed because I thought I was… wait… You knew?”

“Goddess, sweetheart, and considering the ‘who’ and the ‘what’ I’m a little disappointed you think I’d miss it.”

“Yes Mother. I’m sorry Mother.” Cirice murmured, wringing her hands abashedly like a chastized child.

“No harm done…” Reitia waved a hand dismissively, before stooping down to peer at the top of your head as you tried very hard to compress yourself into insignificance. “…well I won’t say it’s the BEST impersonation of a beetle I’ve ever seen, it’s certainly a passionate one.”

“H-Holy Mother?” You blurted in surprise, glancing upwards to see the Goddess smiling warmly at you.

“Oh much better.” Reitia declared, holding out a hand to help you up. “You have such pretty eyes, Deniel, I’d much rather look at them than your bald spot.”

“B-bald spot?” You echoed in mortified embarrassment, springing to your feet and patting desperately at the top of your head.

“Mother!” Cirice lamented “Deniel doesn’t have a bald spot!”

“He’s standing up, isn’t he?” Reitia retorted evenly, the smile not leaving her soft mouth as she looked up at you, stretching her hand out presumptively. “Take my hand Deniel.”

You swallowed nervously, your hand hesitantly encircling hers, soft and cool and oh-so-small inside your grip.

“Say it, Deniel…” Reitia chuckled.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Holy Mother.” You blustered, your face flushing crimson.

Reitia rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Deniel, I can see the full span of existence that stretches through realities beyond counting. There is Nothing You can say that would surprise me.”

“You’re… smaller than I expected…” You remarked hesitantly.

“Oh? Well is this better?” Reitia remarked, and suddenly you were a swaddling infant again, held gently in the Goddess’s smooth arms.

“Or perhaps this?”

You were a boy again, peering up at Reitia’s beautiful eyes as your head lay in her lap, her soft hand stroking your face.

“Or this?”

She star-soaked dreamscape fell away and you glimpsed a momentary vision of the colossal reality of Reitia’s true power, stretching through countless worlds and times and realities. Your mind shrieked at the immensity, your sanity bowing under the sheer incomprehensible WEIGHT.

“P-Please, Holy Mother!” You cried, your arm shielding your eyes.

“I didn’t think so.” Reitia concluded, squeezing your hand gently as the dreamscape returned. “So no more ‘short’ cracks, am I understood?”

“Y-yes Holy Mother.”

“Good.” Reitia declared, pulling you down by your arm and kissing your cheek in a manner so similar to the Mothers at the Abbey that you were suddenly filled with a rush of warm nostalgia. “Now let’s get you home.”

>>388309

“Mother!” Cirice cried, reaching out as Reitia began leading you away, whether to you or the Goddess you couldn’t be sure. “Can I…”

Reitia looked pointedly over her shoulder at the Cupid. “Cirice, sweetheart, you have gotten enough kisses from your paramour to cover ‘Hello’ and ‘Goodbye’ for the next year. Don’t be greedy. Now I want you to…”

You were more than passably educated in the Angelic tongue. Raised in a Tyrisian Abbey, educated in a Reitian Temple and an arguably gifted Mage, you had to be. Yet the exact meaning of Reitia’s next instruction to the Cupid escaped you… But you were sure you had heard a similar tone when you had been instructed to go to your room as a child.

You kissed your fingertips, holding them out towards Cirice, who smiled at you meltingly, her eyes filled with love as the glow around her intensified… and then she was gone.

“This is your dreaming then, Holy Mother?” You ventured, more to reassure yourself that this was more than an elaborate hallucination than anything else.

“Maybe?” Reitia pondered. “It’s not a part of My Memory that I set aside for My followers like Oannes’s lovely beach.” She explained with a gentle smile. “Think of it as like a small part of My ‘house’, but My house is also ‘Me.’ Does that make any sense?”

“I think so…” You replied dubiously, your mind scrabbling for more than a vague grasp of the concepts the Goddess was explaining.

“If you ever have the opportunity to study with a mindflayer, ask her about how a memory palace works, that’s probably as close as a Human can get.” Reitia offered consolingly, seeing you struggling with the concept.

You made a face. “Can I just take it on faith?”

Reitia laughed. “They’re not all evil murderers!”

“Can I take that on faith too?” You ventured, somewhat more cheekily.

“You…” Reitia chided fondly, hugging your arm against her. “…I understand things haven’t been the easiest thus far for you. I want you to know I appreciate the determination you’ve shown.”

“I’ve done nothing more than keep my word, and try and teach people to Love, as you taught us, Holy Mother.” You insisted, shaking your head, stamping vigorously on the ugly worm of hubris the Goddess’s praise threatened to grow within your breast.

“Your humility is touching, Deniel, but not many of my Pilgrims have to deal with Dead Gods, Elves where there shouldn’t be Elves, or naked Cupids throwing themselves at them.” Reitia replied levelly.

“The last being the most dangerous.” You quipped without thought.

“You’re very correct, though I’ll thank you not to be so flippant with it.” Reitia chided. “She is immensely powerful in her own right, and until recently, quite convinced that she would never know Love for herself. If you’re not absolutely sure about what you intend, it would be better if you told me now.”

“I Love her, Holy Mother.” You admitted honestly. “I meant what I said. When my pilgrimage is over, assuming she still feels the same way, I fully intend to marry her.”

Reitia nodded “I love you, all of you, but I’ll confess to being a touch more overprotective of My Cupids. If I thought you were toying with her I’d have likely spread your atoms across a wide expanse of void. I just want to stress how SERIOUSLY she’s going to take this.”

“Y-You make your point quite vividly, Holy Mother.” You gulped, your knees feeling like jelly underneath you and a cold sweat springing forth from your brow.

“Oh stop.” Reitia murmured comfortingly. “I don’t much like the realities where that actually happened anyway.”

“Holy Mother, please…” You near-whimpered, your heart fluttering in your breast. Even if it occured in a completely different reality, the thought of your Goddess obliterating you so casually sent icy terror crawling up your spine.

>>388310

“Deniel… Come here.” Reitia ordered, pulling you down into a hug, the warmth of the Goddess’s Love suffusing through you. “I love you, precious one.”

“I love you, Holy Mother.” You replied instinctively.

“Better?”

You nodded. “Much.”

“Good.” Reitia smiled. “I didn’t mean to be so blunt… Father and I are often somewhat graphic when ‘talking shop’ out of necessity.”

“The Raven?”

“Mmm…” Reitia nodded. “…I’ll admit to being a little disappointed in Uncle Samuel. My Father’s first disciple should be doing more to stop modern mythology from turning him into a Bogeyman.”

“The Caladonian?” You queried in awe.

“He still doesn’t know how that appellation became so commonplace…” Reitia giggled slightly. “…He was lamenting it to Father while peas steadily dribbled off his fork at dinner last week.”

“Holy Mother, forgive me but… You… Had dinner… with The Raven… and The Caladonian… Like, sit down, regular people dinner?”

“Of course precious one, Amaranth is quite an excellent cook…” Reitia replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “…She’s a little put out with you, you know. Spurning her in favour of Cirice and all.”

“So if I had…” You began, somewhat overwhelmed.

“We would have had this conversation over dinner after I finished consoling a very huffy Cupid.” Reitia smiled. “And Alexander would be threatening you with terrible, Terrible things if Amaranth so much as gave a listless sigh around you.”

“Oh…” You blurted helplessly. “Holy Mother… What am I?”

Reitia paused, looking up at you quizzically. “That’s a strange question, precious one. How do you mean?”

“I’m talking to my Goddess about how she had dinner with a company of Legends as we wander through what I can only surmise is something resembling ‘Heaven’.”

“That’s a reasonably succinct summary.” Reitia agreed.

“This is not a normal thing!” You insisted helplessly.

“It is in My Temple.” Reitia replied somewhat huffily. “I try and keep certain intersects of realities consistent, and I find conversations are some of the easiest ways to accomplish that. Plus, I like your company.”

“Mine?”

“All of you.” Reitia laughed. “Thomas’s tendency to literalism aside. Would you believe I had to shoo two Celestials away from him after the Cupid I sent to help with them threw up her hands in disgust? He couldn’t hear a word she told him because he was so CONVINCED that his interpretation of them was correct.”

“Then how did he see Cirice?”

“You believed harder.”

You smiled helplessly. “I’m glad.”

“So am I. So is he, under the obsequiousness.”

“That’s a point…” You agreed. “…why is he so overwhelmed by her?”

“Learned response. Why was he afraid of water?”

You frowned in thought. “He didn’t want to tell me.”

Reitia patted your arm with her free hand. “Time and experience influence us all, Deniel. Even Gods.”

>>388311

You swallowed. If there was anyone to ask it was Her, and if there was any time to do so it was now. “Is that why The Angels have been playing barber-surgeon with my memory?”

“Ah.” Reitia sighed. “I was wondering how long we would take to reach this point.”

“Why?” You demanded simply.

“Because of what happened to you, and what awareness of that will mean to what you can, and potentially, will do.”

“What happened to me?”

Reitia looked at you, her expression a strange melange of sadness and comfort. “Something horrible. Something no child should ever experience.”

“Holy Mother, with all reverence, that doesn’t tell me much.”

Reitia raised your hand to her lips, kissing it briefly. “I know, precious one.”

“The first time I saw Cirice, I was in the forest where Kimmy was killed. The second, it was atop a butte in the desert. What happened there?”

“Sweet Deniel, you won’t thank me for showing you…” Reitia warned.

>Insist Reitia show us the past

>Redirect, try and get some more information via more subtle questioning

>We should not be wasting face-time with a FUCKING GODDESS bitching about our bodgy memory, ask about something else entirely.

>Pat Her Head. (No srsly don’t do this)

>So Cirice is crazy-powerful… get graphic, ask about if we have to worry about her orgasms splattering us across reality.

>Something else?

>>388312

You know what we want.

Though I don't care for the word "insist" when talking to our Lord. More like please.

Headpatting a god is out of our league, We haven't even patted all the bitches we've helped so far, We aren't ready for the big leagues. Yet

Also thats a fair question regarding Cirice. Not a bad way to go honestly. "Here lies a monument to Deniel, The man who made an angel of Holy Retia orgasm so hard it shattered his physical body across all reality."

We'd become the patron saint of shagging

>>388312

Pat her head.

>>388312

Headpat Reitia. What's the worst that could happen? :^)

>>388325

Fuck, forgot my sage

>>388312

I am suspicious now that she said that. Did we watch someone get murdered? Let’s ask, but be subtle about it.

>>388325

>>388321

Very bad idea. Don’t do this. Save our pats for cirice.

>>388321

>>388325

>Headpatting our goddess

>Headpatting our goddess when we already have Circe

Double sacrilege, don't do that shit

>>388312

>Insist Reitia show us the past

Lets do this. But be tactful like >>388330 suggests.

>>388325

>What's the worst that could happen?

Spontaneous reincarnation as a frog? Your entire existence wiped from living memory? Magical castration? Just to name a few.

>>388312

As much as it might cause problems, I feel like we're the kind of stubborn fucker who'd need to know.

>So Cirice is crazy-powerful… get graphic, ask about if we have to worry about her orgasms splattering us across reality.

This got sorta meta-answered when I asked about it back when, but it does raise a interesting point: anything we should know about shaking up with an angel that's not common knowledge? We should ask about this if we get the chance.

>>388347

>anything we should know about shaking up with an angel that's not common knowledge?

Outside of universe altering orgasms, a question about possible side effects of procreating with angels is worth asking. Such as… What would any potential children be like? Could marrying and spending all his time around an angel have an effect on Deniel like Incubusization?

>>388312

nicely insist about the past, and ask if Cirice would turn us into a fine pink mist if she has an orgasm.

>>388347

Iirc from RD’s other work, hooking up with an angel eventually turns you into an angel.

>>388381

This is in line with the meta-answer >>388347 is talking about.

Deniel won't sprout wings because isn't a part of the divine bloodlines. That's all you're assured of at this point.

>>388312

Let's ask about our history, and for her to head pat us instead. Also, Lester just gamble on if there will be any side effects from the Cupid. Live on the edge.

I'm a faggot that didn't sage. End me.

>>388592

I'm not so much for learning the past now. Done just fine without it as is, but will ask her to pat out head instead of trying to pat.

>>388595

The reason I worry about the headpat thing is because she could easily construe it as a jab about her height. Implying that she looks like a child, since she is petite. And she's clearly very self-conscious about it. It's great bully material for when we know her better, but it's too early.

>Ask Reitia Politely to show us the past

“Be that as it may, Holy Mother…” You began, facing the Goddess and bowing your head subserviently “…I beg you… If it please you… Show me.”

“Well it doesn’t Please me, Deniel…” Reitia sighed resignedly. “…Nothing about the whole sordid business pleases me. But, if you’re determined…”

Reitia waved one of her delicate hands and the air before you shimmered, the desert butte you had seen in your dreams coming into sharp focus, as if a window had been opened in reality. You gasped in horror as you spied a toddler, barely old enough to walk, reaching out through the bars of a wicker cage.

“Mama!” The child wailed piteously. “Scared, Mama!”

“Will you shut it up?” A woman’s harsh voice rang from the rear of a wagon, the clinking sound of reagent canistersters providing discordant accompaniment to the child’s wailing.

The hooded figure from your dreams approached the cage, kneeling down and pulling the hood back. For a moment, you didn’t recognise the figure as human, as ritual scarification covered the man’s face almost completely. Strange though… the man’s features… they were oddly familiar.

“Don’t be afraid, boy.” The dark figure insisted. “You’re part of a great Becoming.”

“Want Mama!” the toddler insisted, not understanding or caring about what the man with the scary face was saying.

“Has she ever shown you the slightest affection boy?” The scarred man smirked, curling back lips from teeth filed to points. “What makes you think she’ll start now?”

The boy recoiled slightly and began to wail. A stab of sympathetic pain shot through you at the sound of his cry. The scarred man reached a hand through the bars, gripping the toddler, but not roughly, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze with his tattooed hand.

“You must be strong, boy. Endure the hardship, and you will know power the likes of which…”

“I told you to shut it up, not have a conversation with it!” The woman demanded, her enraged face emerging from the cover of the wagon, sandy-blonde hair so like your own, her features horrifyingly familiar.

“Mistress…” The scarred man began “…Wouldn’t it be better if Deniel…”

“You named it?” The woman mocked. “More fool you…”

“Mistress… This is our son!” The scarred man blurted incredulously.

“That parasite…” The woman spat. “…is a means to an end, nothing more. Nine months beneath my heart is all it will get from me without tribute.”

The reality of the situation crashed down around you, and your legs gave way beneath you, tears blurring your vision.

“They… they were my parents…” You choked “…And they never loved me.”

“Deniel…” Reitia insisted, her delicate arms reaching as best they could to encircle your broad shoulders. “…I warned you…”

“End it, Holy Mother… Please…” You begged, tears running freely down your face.

“No, my precious one…” Reitia replied regretfully “…You wanted to see, and now you must see.”

>>388761

You tried to turn your face away, and found yourself inexorably locked to the vision, your child-self still sniveling within the wicker cage, the scarred form of your father tracing blasphemous runes in the dirt, your mother still mixing reagents from glass flasks at the side of the wagon.

“We are ready.” She declared.

“Yes Mistress.” Your father agreed, straightening and wiping his scarred brow with the back of his tattooed arm.

Suddenly, a flash of light burst from nearby, two armoured figures striding forth, one clad in the gold and white of a Tyrisian Paladin, the other in the utter blackness of a Corvidian Knight.

“Cease this Blasphemy!” The Paladin commanded, drawing a sword which blazed with golden fire.

“…Or be damned…” The Corvidian echoed, drawing his own black blade.

Your mother shrieked with mad laughter, throwing a liquid-filled jar which shattered on the ground before the pair, a foul, brownish miasma causing both warriors to grab at their throats, choking for air.

“Take their hearts.” She ordered, and your father nodded purposefully, chanting the Dark Tongue and moving his hands in strange, somatic gestures.

“Ne Pireda Ameniael!” The Paladin choked, hastily inscribing a magical circle in the air before him.

“Ne Pireda Athtoriel!” The Dark Knight echoed, mirroring his movements.

“Well well…” your mother purred. “…Scions… Just as planned.”

The air rang with twin choirs, as a Celestial and an Umbral Angel both became manifest.

“Gof'nn hupadgh ebumna…” Your father chanted, black and crimson energies weaving through the air.

“Pitiful…” The Umbral Angel sneered, black hair swirling about her pale, intensely beautiful visage. She stretched forth her hand, and the knights were enveloped in a web of void energy.

“You shall not have them, Heretics!” The Celestial added, enshrouding the knights in light.

“…Nog geb wgah'n ah f’grah’n!” Your father concluded.

“The Angels!” You screamed impotently at the vision “…He’s not…”

Twin clawed hands burst from shrieking holes in reality as mutant, foul limbs stretched forth to seize both angels in massive taloned hands. The air rang with their screams as cruel, grimy talons dug into their flesh.

<You have learned the LIGHT Magic: Sanctuary - Surround self or target in a shield of Holy Magic

>You have learned the DARK Magic: Dark Grip - Reach into the Malebolge and summon the arm of a Forbidden One to sieze the target.

The protections surrounding the knights vanished, and your mother pointed a hand at them, fingers curled cruelly, engulfing them in crimson-smoking hellfire. The Angels redoubled their shrieking, struggling against the disembodied arms as the knights burned alive.

“Fetch the ewers!” your mother ordered. Your father inclined his head, dragging a pair of oversized, rune-inscribed bowls beneath the struggling angels.

“It’s easy to die…” your mother purred at the angels “…knowing you’ll die for your God.”

“You will taste Oblivion!” The Umbral cried defiantly.

“You first.” your father quipped, clenching his hands.

The sound the Angels emitted as the talons dug deeply into their flesh was beyond description, light and dark blood pouring forth into the ewers.

“Die! Die and know your false gods have forsaken you!” Your mother cackled, almost dancing with mad glee as the angels bled out. The bleeding slowed, and the figures shuddered and were still.

Your father waved his hands, and the arms retracted back into whatever horrible realm they had spawned from, dragging the bodies of the angels with them.

“Now. Baptise it.” Your mother ordered, pointing at you. Once again, your father nodded, moving to scoop the angelic blood from the ewers.

“All of it.” Your mother interjected.

Your father recoiled, staring at your mother incredulously. “So much… it could overwhelm him, Mistress!”

“What care have I of that?” your mother scoffed, gesturing at her crotch “We can always make another.”

Your father’s jaw clenched, but he did as he was ordered, levitating the heavy basins into the air. Chanting gutturally, he tipped the blood in twin deluges over the diminutive form of your child-self.

You cried out in concert with your younger self’s screaming. Hot. Scalding. Can’t breathe! Afraid, so afraid… the angels screaming in my head… so loud… the world’s vastness falling away… alone… alone… alone…

“I… Remember…” You gasped as the vision faded to nothingness. “…The Angels on The Path… They’ve always been there… Trapped…”

“Diablery.” Reitia explained. “The power of those two angels, bound to your soul through the blood you were drowned in. To open the intersects on the path. By the age of five, you had the capability of an Archmage. This is why you had to forget. Magical proficiency must be balanced by experience and wisdom.”

“But I remember the Abbey!” You protested.

Reitia nodded. “You were raised there, after you were rescued. An entire Tyrisian Chancel died trying to stop your parents… In the end, all they could do was to spirit you away.”

“Where are they now?”

“I don’t know.” The Goddess admitted. “They have great power, and the forces they have aligned themselves with know well the arts of hiding themselves.”

“I will find them.” You swore through gritted teeth. “I will find them and…”

“What, Deniel?” Reitia demanded hotly, a single tear, precious beyond measure tracking down her cheek. “You’ll what? Enact horrors on them, as they did you? Torture their flesh and souls? Is this what my precious one is reduced to? Is this the path I have taught you to follow?”

“Holy Mother, all my life I have taken it on faith that my parents surrendered me to follow higher calling. I thanked Tyris for them, prayed for them!” You grated, slamming your fist against the ‘ground’. “And in the end I was nothing… Worse than nothing… a spawn. Some vermin in their eyes raised for ritual I can’t even begin to fathom. I have nobody… I am nothing…”

A sharp stinging spread across your cheek, shocking you into immobility. She had slapped you! “If you’re quite finished feeling sorry for yourself…” Reitia chided seethingly, before taking your head in her arms and embracing it against her breast as if you were yet a child. “…Before you were born, I loved you. You suffer and my heart bleeds, you cry out and my arms reach forth to comfort you. I am Love, and you… all of you… are my precious ones… You are never alone, because I am always, ALWAYS with you… do you understand?”

“I-I’m s-sorry, Holy Mother.” You sobbed, shame and pain roiling through you as the overwhelming balm of the Goddess’s infinite love washed it away.

“There there Deniel…” Reitia murmured soothingly, her hand nestling within your hair as she patted your head comfortingly.

“Where the bloody hell did you go?” Robbo demanded as you staggered back into the taproom of the ‘Ruby’s Legacy’. The Australian’s extensive entourage from the previous night was vastly diminished, only his Dingo wife Gilly, Director De Sephiny of the IMFC and Earl Charles of Longley remained at his side. “I came upstairs to make sure you were alright, and both you and the Cupid were gone!”

“It’s long, complicated… I’m not entirely sure I understand it myself…” You began, before the erstwile baron brought his hand up to stop you.

“Here.” He offered, sliding a tankard across the table. “Worry about telling me when you’re feeling sufficiently lubricated.”

“Thank you…” You sighed gratefully, drinking deeply. “Sigurd and Sapphire?”

“With the other Tide Priests and Oannesians downstairs, talking.” Charles replied. “It’s the strangest thing… I don’t remember when I forgot He existed, but…”

“You’re not alone.” You assured the noble. “There was some powerful magic at play there.”

“How dreadful!” Charles declared, before clearing his throat and glancing at you “Er, not to say…”

“I know what you meant.” You assured the man, taking another drink. “I take it Thomas and Ellie…”

“Upstairs…” Director De Sephiny drawled with a lecherous grin. “…NOT talking.”

“That’s me sister y’vile cunt.” Robbo growled.

“Such a nice boy.” Gilly remarked simply. “I hope she has the brains to keep him.”

“Gilly!” Robbo objected pleadingly.

“I love her.” Gilly whuffled, putting a pale-furred paw atop her husband’s hand and kissing him briefly. “But she is a human…”

>Ask Robbo and the rest what happened while you were away frogstomping

>Go downstairs and talk to the Tidepriests

>Go upstairs and make sure Thomas and Ellie haven’t broken reality

>Brain too full of fuck. Keep drinking.

>Fuck this noise, go bury our face in Cirice’s pillow and pray for pleasant dreams.

>Something else?

>>388764

Let’s go to bed. The last thing we want is to do or say something stupid while drunk. For now we need to process this and think about what we’ll do next. But at least we know now why the angels wanted to kill us before.

>>388764

1,2,5.

I think we need to try and talk with those two Angels. They were done dirty and must hold so much resentment. We need to talk with them and try to make amends in whatever way we can. See if there is perhaps a way to set them free. Even though there probably isn't, We'd be an evil cunt to not try.

Developing a working relationship with them and trying to assuage their suffering to the best of our abilities sounds like something Mother would approve of.

>>388764

Have a couple drinks for the nerves, chat with Robbo about what else has been happening, then get some shut eye.

Looks like it might be a good idea to find Deniel's shitty parents someday and get some damn answers. Torturing them is a no go, but I think burning them alive in holy fire to cleanse the world from their evil would be decent enough.

>>388764

>Ask Robbo and the rest what happened while you were away frogstomping

Have a few drinks while we're at it. Time to decompress.

>>388773

>I think we need to try and talk with those two Angels

I'm all for this at some point.

>>388764

>Something else?

Meditate with the hopes of speaking with the angels whose souls have been bound to us. Explain how Reitia has shown you the truth. Then apologize for their treatment, and ask if there is any way you can help them.

>Fuck this noise, go bury our face in Cirice’s pillow and pray for pleasant dreams.

Afterwards, this sounds just fine.

>>388769

>But at least we know now why the angels wanted to kill us before.

I also suspect that the mage who killed Kimmy was our father, who was hunting for us after we were liberated from them. As if we needed reason to hate them even more.

>>388764

>Brain too full of fuck. Keep drinking.

Yeah I find half a bottle of Scotch helps with the funk.

>>388764

getting so drunk an oni would cut us off is the only reasonable solution

>>388797

I seem to have missed the info dump regarding this person. What do we know about Kimmy so far? All I've picked up was she was a childhood friend who somehow got killed

>>388829

Yep. A young naiad or water nymph who was too afraid to leave her pool when deniel's erstwhile father came a-hunting. Deniel puts 2 and 2 together when he recognises the figure from the forest vision as the same as the desert vision.

>>388764

I'm up for meditating to try and make contact with the angels, attempting to reconcile is a good idea seeing as our souls appear to be permanently fused.

>Have a couple, ask Robbo about what happened while you were away.

>Go to bed, but meditate on the angels first, see if you can contact them again.

“Gods, I’m tired…” You sighed, before taking a deep draught of your tankard.

“Tyris and Maou in a bloody bower, mate…” Robbo exclaimed, looking you over with a critical eye, before signalling to the neatly dressed man behind the bar, ostensibly polishing a glass. “…Yes please barkeep, I think we’ll need that bottle.”

“Bottle? You echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Robbo grinned at you as the Barkeep placed a bottle containing an amber liquid on the bar, along with a series of small glasses. Filling them casually, Robbo handed one to you before passing the others to his compatriots, Gilly satisfying herself with a tall glass of what appeared to be some kind of fruit juice.

“Not joining us, Love?” Robbo queried.

The Dingo shook her head, her large lupine ears flicking absently. “Grog makes undersized daughters and bad hunters.”

“Fair call…” Robbo acceded. “…Here’s mud in yer eye. Cheers lads.”

“Cheers.” You echoed, drinking half the glass before coughing as it burned its way down your throat.

“Hah!” Robbo chuckled, clapping you on the back. “Good shit eh?”

“It’s Magnificent!” You gasped in amazement. “What is it?”

“Zipangan whiskey. It’s what the Oni get onto when they wanna make a serious night of it.” Robbo explained. “Notheries?”

“Please…” You agreed, draining the glass and holding it out to be refilled.

>>388859

“…So th’Gods-damned Elf starts trash-talkin m’Goddess in its wolly-lolly language… and b’fore me or Thomas or anybody can do a thing. Cirice just murders it in the face with one of her magic arrows!” You exclaimed, clumsily miming drawing and releasing a bow “Boom. Ashes.”

Charles blinked owlishly. “Cirice is th’Angel?”

“Cupid…” You corrected the noble drunkenly, before giving a lusty sigh. “…M’gonna marry her someday.”

“Listen to the Pilgrim!” Director De Sephiny laughed slurringly “Next he’ll be saying he’s gonna beat the Most High in an arm-wrestling contest.”

“Go find a Paladin!” You retort with all the bravado born of intoxication. “Get him to call Holy Tyris… I’ll arm-wrestle anyone for her! I’ll kick a Seraph in th’balls!”

“Blasphemy.” The Director laughs, hugging you one-armedly, waving his glass in the air. “Deniel is drunk.”

“Deniel is aware of that fact.” You drawled, before hiccuping. “Oh Reitia… That crept up on me.”

“More beer!” Robbo declared, laughing uproariously and thumping his hand on the table. “The night’s still young if we’re only just now challenging Gods to a fight!”

“I still remember the time you chased a blackbird for half a mile convinced that Lord Corvus was talking shit on you from outside the tavern window, dear…” Gilly added with a demure smile.

“Hah!” Robbo barked, presumptively scooping up a tankard. “They say He’ll show up in a tavern somewhere in the Australs on Saint Bruce’s feast-day and buy the whole place a round. He might be th’jailor of the world’s horrors but that’s a good bloke in my books.”

“The Gods!” Charles declared, raising his tankard. “To Holy Tyris, the Most High, Lord of Humanity!”

“And Maou…” Director De Sephiny added. “…His Divine Bride, Goddess-Queen of Mamono!”

“To Reitia!” You added jubilantly “All-Mother of Creation, Wellspring of Love and Mercy!”

“And Corvus The Raven!” Robbo agreed “Guardian and Saviour of the World.”

“To Ammit…” Gilly interjected. “…Great JUSTICE, Empress of Eternity.”

“Not of Forgetting Oannes…” Sigurd interjected as he approached the table, hand in hand with the Kraken Sapphire.

“Wouldn’t think of it! Welcome back big fella!” Robbo exclaimed. “God of the Waves and the Depths, Grandfather Ocean! May He be a proper sort and overlook the fact we got magicked into forgetting Him.”

“The Gods.” You all repeated, before drinking deeply.

“So what happened after we left?” You asked, blinking to try and clear your swimming head.

“Oh…” Robbo replied, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “…Well… It seemed like a good idea at the time…”

“You have to understand, Deniel…” Director De Sephiny added “…Not everyone at the table last night was a friend…”

“We had them strangled.” Charles admitted bluntly. “And after that everything went to crap with those frog-things boiling out of the basement.”

“Did WHAT?” You exclaimed in disbelief, standing and backing away in horror.

“It was MAGNIFICENT!” Gilly snarled, her pale eyes alight with savage glee. “My Husband, showing his complete dominance… Those traitors never stood a chance.”

“Oh Reitia…” You groaned in despair. “…I think I’m gonna be…”

“Easy little brother.” Sigurd assured you, patting you on the back “It is the way of things. This is of being War, and you cannot be havings those behind you who will be of stabbings you in the back.”

“But to just kill them in cold blood!”

“I’m not happy about it, mate.” Robbo admitted, slapping his metal-braced leg pointedly. “But what was I to do? Challenge ‘em all to a duel? With me gammy leg? Think they’d let honour stop ‘em from just cutting me down? It’s the way the game’s played, and when you sit down at that table, there’s no option to fold. You win, or you die.”

“Was of fightings against Dagon any different?” Sigurd added.

You stared at the newly-minted Tide Priest with incredulity. “That was different! That was…”

“Different Game.” Sigurd interjected. “Different Rules. The world is of being a cruel and dark place sometimes… I am glad you Reitians are of being here to keep the Light alive.”

“Yer a good lad, Deniel.” Robbo admitted. “And you’ll be a fine priest or cleric or whatever yer Pilgrimage ends in. But yer an idealist. Not all of us have that luxury.”

You opened your mouth to object further, righteous anger building in your breast, and promptly threw up on the floor.

>>388860

“Was I a part of it, somehow?” You mumbled as Sapphire bundled you into Cirice’s room, the Kraken half-carrying you in her tentacles.

“Who’s to say?” Sapphire mused philosophically “But I know what you were a part of. Without you, I never would have found Sigurd.”

“Thomas and Cirice did…” You objected drunkenly.

“They were a part of it too, but would Thomas have agreed to help with Ellie nibbling his ear? Would Cirice have been there at all if not for you?” The Kraken retorted gently, kissing you on the forehead before sitting you down on the bed. “Thank you so much, Deniel. With all my heart.”

“I do what my Goddess Commands.” You insisted.

“And you do very well.” The Kraken smiled softly, releasing you and retreating from the room. “Get some sleep.”

You grabbed the Pillow, still divoted from the weight of the Cupid’s head upon it. Raising it to your face, you inhaled deeply, the sweet, indescribable scent of the Angel’s hair still lingering within it. Her beautiful, perfect face danced in your memory, and you felt your spirit lighten at the thought of her.

“Even when you’re not here…” You whispered to the darkness “…You comfort me. I Love you, Cirice.”

It might have been the alcohol, but through the spinning haziness you swore you heard her voice whispering back.

“I Love You…”

“Thank you, Holy Mother.” You breathed reverently, putting the pillow back on the bed before kneeling on the floor. “Thank you for bringing her to me.” Breathing deeply, you centred yourself, folding your hands in your lap. “Sahnate, Pora, Reitia Dei in Excelsius…”

>>388861

You owed it to them. You could not deny that simple fact as you walked the twilight of The Path, the astral plane spreading its fractal lattice out around you.

“Ameniael… Athtoriel…” You called, focusing your will upon making the Angel-shades manifest.

“He remembers…” The Umbral remarked, shimmering into vision as if appearing from a fog.

“He does…” The Celestial agreed, stepping from within a beam of sourceless light.

“Does he come to command us?”

“He has used the dark arts… Blood follows blood.”

“He has repented.”

“Repentance does not change reality.”

“Please!” You called to the angels, who turned their heads as one to regard you dispassionately.

“Wants the power back.”

“Undeserved”

“Yes. We must deny him.”

“But the pain!”

“Thank God for the Suffering…”

“No!” You objected “I don’t want to force you… I don’t want power without that I have earned it… I just…”

The Celestial floated towards you, reaching out her gold-glowing hand, stopping just shy of touching you.

“Love…” She remarked with something of a surprised tone “…He has been touched by Love.”

“I remember Love… I remember it being torn from me…” The Umbral added

“I also…” The Celestial agreed, before turning back to face you again. “…What do you want?”

Those words touched something deep within your spirit, and for one staggering, awe-inspiring moment, you held the power of the Divine in your hand. You COULD command them! You could manifest ANY magic… all you had to do was will it!

“Blessed is he who is Humble before Tyris…” The words of one of the Mothers at the Abbey whispered in your memory “…for the works of the Gods are not for the minds of man to know.”

“I want you free.” You stated simply. “Please… Tell me how.”

“Free…” The Umbral echoed

“But we are dead.” The Celestial mused, floating back to take the hand of the Umbral in hers once again

“…Bound… Our forms consumed long ago in the Malebolge”

“Only this fragment… our memory… our awareness…”

“Only this remains…”

“You don’t know…” You sighed dejectedly

“No.”

“Only the Dead know the mysteries of the Dead.”

“And we may not truly die…”

“…While you yet remain.”

“So when I die, you’ll be free?” You asked despairingly.

“Yes.”

“So forget us.”

“Yes… Forget… let us linger in that questionable peace…”

“…and embrace the madness of solitude.”

The astral realm faded away as the tumult of your emotions shattered your resolve. You came gasping awake in the darkness of Cirice’s room, the dull throbbing of a hangover beginning behind your eyes. Wearily, you pulled yourself back onto the bed, guzzling greedily from the pitcher of lukewarm water which still remained from your earlier nursing of Cirice. You spied a hairpin on the table, left by some woman known only to the gods in the unknown past. It’s point was keen, its steel length softly muted in the darkness…

“When I die, you’ll be free…”

You picked up the hairpin, turning it over in your hands.

“…I Love You…”

You groaned, letting the hairpin fall to the floor, and burying your face once again in the pillow, letting your weariness overcome you at last.

>>388862

The world was soft… muted… gentle rose-coloured light springing from everywhere and nowhere. Cirice’s face filled your vision, and she smiled, her eyes half-lidded.

“I’m dreaming…” You murmured.

“We both are.” Cirice replied, her soft lips brushing yours.

“Would that I could stay here forever with you.”

The cupid stroked your hair gently. “Why settle for a dream?”

“I Love You…”

“I Love You too…” Cirice sighed happily, before giving you a light slap, barely more than a tap. “…so don’t you ever think about leaving me alone again.”

“A moment of darkness… I’m sorry…” You apologized “…They suffer so…”

“I forgive you…” Cirice breathed, kissing you again and enfolding you in arm and wing. “…but where there is life, there is always hope.”

>>388863

“How’s the head?” Charles chuckled painedly as you joined him at the table.

“It’s not the head so much as the eyes…” You replied, squinting at the sunlight which streamed mercilessly through the taproom windows.

“Listen, Deniel, about last night…”

“I’m not interested in judging men who’ve seen more of the world than me.” You interjected. “And, Reitia forgive my selfishness… I’ve got enough to occupy my thoughts as it is.”

“As you will.” Charles conceded. “Listen, I have business in London. I don’t know where you intended to continue on from here, but if Reitia is guiding you towards the Continent, there’s a bunk for you to the Angel Isles, at least.”

“London?” Director De Sephiny echoed incredulously as he presumptively pulled up a chair next to you. “What could possibly draw him there? Is he going to minister to the Corpses in the Great Necropolis?

“James De Sephiny…” Charles drawled evenly “…I would pay a Solar Mark to see you say that to the Baroness.”

“No fear me…” The Director blanched, hurriedly making the sign of the sunburst. “…but still… I’m heading to the Doric Factorum to follow up with the IMFC agents there, and I’d be glad to have…”

“Woman, I don’t care!” Robbo growled as he limped down the stairs, a stormy-faced Gilly in tow. “That is my baby sister, and so help me Tyris, Ammit, and whoever else is listening on this far-too-bright cunt of a morning, I am going to raise a tankard at her wedding!”

“Wedding?” You blurted in surprise.

“Deniel. You’re up. Good. Maybe you can convince my wife to set aside the baby-brain and see sense!” Robbo grunted.

“I am far… far too hungover to follow this…” You groaned helplessly.

“He wants to go all the way back to Caladon!” Gilly snarled. “I love Ellie as much as he does, but do they REALLY have to be married in this Grass-Sea place? Our Child needs to be born in the Australs!”

“We’ve got time!” Robbo insisted.

Gilly sniffed. “Says you.”

>Go with Charles to the Great Necropolis of London

>Go with James to Doric

>Stay in Atlantea, No doubt Sigurd and Sapphire will be getting married soon.

>Go with Gilly and Robbo to Caladon for Thomas and Ellie’s wedding.

>Fuck this lot, get on the road by ourselves, we are far too wrapped up in their bullshit as is.

>Something else?

>>388864

Thomas is our best friend and is practically a brother, We have to go to his wedding.

That said, I do think we need to start moving on. Robbo and co have been good to us and I do like them but we are on pilgrimage and I don't think getting to involved with people starting a civil war is a good idea. After the wedding we need to part.

>>388866

Also I definitely think we need tell Thomas about what we learned. Perhaps while on route though so we don't sour his good mood. Deniel is going through some heavy emotional shit, He needs another shoulder to lean on at the moment and I'd like to hear Thomas's input

>>388864

>Go with Gilly and Robbo to Caladon for Thomas and Ellie’s wedding.

I agree with >>388866

Lets attend the wedding, then see what new opportunities open up afterwards. We certainly do need to take a new path in our journey. The Great Necropolis of London sounds pretty neat, but the wedding comes first.

>>388864

Let’s go with Gilli and Robbo to Thomas’s wedding. We can’t miss that. Though I disagree with >>388868 about telling Thomas for two reasons. Firstly he’s getting married and doesn’t need to worry about our issues, and secondly I don’t think we should tell anybody else just yet. It’s been less than a day since we found this out ourselves. We should think about it more. Especially given how many people the sperm and egg donor likely murdered or had deniel murder.

>>388900

>I disagree about telling Thomas

I also think we should keep this info to ourselves. We may be friends with Thomas, but not everything should be shared.

>>388868

no, don't tell him about this. Deniel isn't a gossiping cheerleader

>>388864

Looking at the other replies, guess we're going to a wedding. I want to see the Necropolis myself, though.

On the subject of telling Thomas about what we learned, let's not.

>>388972

Look man I want to know more about them too but A: we ought to attend Thomas' wedding and B: fuck London.

Besides, undead probably exist on this side of the ocean. Once we see Thomas and Ellie tie the knot we can go looking for a lich or wight to help us out.

>Go with Robbo and Gilly to the wedding

“Well I’ll be going.” You remarked simply.

“See?” Gilly whuffled triumphantly, before double taking and staring at you incredulously. “Deniel!” She whined, her long pale ears pressed back against her skull.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the support mate…” Robbo drawled in puzzlement “…But don’t you have your pilgrimage to think about?”

“It’s what, better part of a week back to Williamsberg? Another half-day to sea-of-grasses from there?” You justified, ticking the days off on your fingers “So at worst, I lose a month. This is my Brother in faith’s wedding! A few weeks won’t…”

“A few weeks?!” Ellie’s shrill voice interjects as the mage strides purposefully towards the table. “Bugger that!”

“Love, it’s important…” Thomas cozened, following along behind her and sliding his hand into hers.

“Yeah nah we’re going to sea-of-grasses, don’t worry about that…” Ellie assured him, leaning up to kiss him presumptively. “…But I am not sitting on Robbo’s creaky old two-train while those fuckin’ garbage disposals meander their way back to Caladon.”

You frowned in puzzlement. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“S’orright Pilgrim, you will.” Ellie chucked smugly.

“So!” Gilly harrumphed. “We’re just going to go because you all say so, and I have no input in the matter…”

“Gilly…” Ellie wheedled, approaching the dingo with limpid eyes, taking the Mamono’s paws in her hands. “…And I wanted you to stand with me before the altar!”

“You…” Gilly gasped, her eyes wide and her mouth agape “…I… But you…”

“Please?”

“Bloody humans…” Gilly snarled, pulling the mage against her in a posessive embrace, tears flowing freely from her eyes.

“Poor doomed bastard…” Robbo snickered, shaking his head knowingly at Thomas.

>>389434

“So the night’s getting away from us…” Robbo remarked pointedly, absently scratching one of the saurian bungarra above its horny eye-ridge.

“Fuckin’ aware of that fact Robbo!” Ellie snarled, seated cross-legged in front of Thomas with her legs folded, the Adept mirroring her position with the most shamelessly shit-eating grin plastered from ear to ear on his face.

Robbo raised an eyebrow, absently punching the lizard as it took a questing snap at him. “Is there a problem?”

“Bloody oath!” Ellie retorted desperately, her face aflame.

“Well? Don’t leave me standing here like one o’clock half-struck…”

“I-it’s not something I can tell me bloody brother about!” Ellie lamented, blushing even further.

“Tent.” Gilly ordered, placing a paw presumptively on Robbo’s shoulder. “Deniel can sort it out.”

“Me?” You blurted in surprise.

“Pilgrims solve relationship issues, yes?” Gilly whuffled primly, smiling at you with a slight hint of malicious glee. “Sing for your supper, pilgrim.”

“Well you’ve got me there…” You declared helplessly, standing from where you reclined in front of the cheerily crackling campfire and joining the mages on the soft loam.

“Like this is any better?” Ellie lamented, staring at you helplessly.

“Relax, Ellie.” Thomas chuckled.

“Don’t laugh at me, fuckya!” Ellie yelled, shoving the man.

“Why don’t you explain to me what the problem is?” You offered, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “And we can work it out from there. I’ll keep whatever it is in strict confidence.”

“Seems the Circle is more… Regimented when they join their minds.” Thomas explained diplomatically.

“You fuckin’ Reitians don’t hold anything back!” Ellie accused. “Every time I enter his head he’s thinkin’ lewd fuckin’ shit about me!”

You frowned in puzzlement. “And this is a problem?”

“Yes! I mean No! I mean…” Ellie stammered. “…I’m tryin’ to teach him Portal magic and he just keeps washing me away with how much he’s thinkin’ about me.” The mage lowered her eyes. “I’m not that special…”

“Then I’ll keep showing you…” Thomas declared, cupping her cheek tenderly. “…Until you believe me.”

“Thomas…” Ellie moaned longingly. “…It’s really bloody hard to think when you’re like this.”

“Does Love concern you so?” You ventured gently.

“No, it’s just… before him it was academic, you know?” Ellie explained lamely. “You find someone you like, and who likes you back, and you make a go of it. I wasn’t expecting… This.”

“You’ve never known Love?”

“The Circle’s big on rules and procedure, they’re not exactly the most mothering sort.”

“Even your own parents?” You ventured, swallowing as the memory of agony wormed its way through your stomach.

“Me folks were good sorts, but they died while me and Robbo were still pretty young… I wouldn’t know.”

Sympathy welled in your breast. “I’m sorry.”

“Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” The Mage drawled self-deprecatingly. “Yer brain goes to shit because yer fiancee loves you so much it’s all he can think about…”

“Not stupid at all. Love is all-encompassing, and it can be overwhelming.” You assured her. “Take your time. Try again tomorrow, or the next day, or the next… Either way we’ll make it to Caladon.”

“We don’t have TIME for that!” Ellie declared desperately.

“What do you mean, Love?” Thomas demanded, the smile gone in an instant.

“You’ll hate me.” Ellie lamented.

Thomas shook his head firmly. “Not a chance.”

“I broke some pretty major rules down there with that fuckin Dagon-worshipping cunt.” Ellie explained. “And more before that backing me brother. The Mages that were with me were originally supposed to bring me in for it. The good eggs who stuck it out’ll run interference, but eventually…”

>>389435

“Someone’ll come for you.” You finished for her.

Ellie nodded. “But if we’re married… Magisterium drafted a buncha legislation to try and encourage Human-exclusive partnerships some years back. If we’re married, they can’t just take me away from him without a fight.”

“Ellie…” You began seriously. “…I’m going to ask you a question and you’re going to get angry at me for asking it.”

“Orright…” Ellie acceded, slightly suspiciously.

“Do you truly love my brother? Or is he just a way to get yourself out of troub…”

You leaned backwards with a jerk of your body as the Mage launched a vicious swipe at your face, her fist crackling with energy, so close that you felt the breeze of its passing.

“Take that back, cunt!” Ellie seethed, her eyes alight with power. “From the moment I saw him I fuckin’ wanted him!”

“Ellie…” Thomas gasped, his face flushing at her confession. “…That’s so sweet!”

“Well it’s the truth…” Ellie murmured, getting herself back under control. “…fuckin’ accuse me of being a cunting monkeybrancher… Tyris Wept…”

“I love you…” Thomas breathed, leaning in to kiss the mage softly.

“See?” Ellie moaned, pulling herself reluctantly away. “Now I just wanna drag you off to the tent and…”

“Halting that for a moment…” You interjected. “…Firstly, I did warn you, and thank you for answering me honestly. Secondly, there’s another option.”

Ellie looked at you askance “And that would be?”

“My head.”

“Deniel!” Thomas gasped. “Are you sure? What with…”

“Each option poses its own risks.” You replied philosophically, spreading your arms.

“Whazzat now?” Ellie queried, looking between the two of you.

Thomas cleared his throat. “Deniel has… Company from time to time. Company whose reaction to us both being in his head I can’t be sure of.”

“Cirice isn’t here right now.” You assured him.

“Right now…” Thomas echoed. “…Who’s to say when that will change? Not to mention your memories are… Vivid.”

“Who’s Cirice?” Ellie demanded, before her eyes widened in understanding. “You’re bonded with that angel? You’re a Scion?!”

“Nothing so grandiose…” You assured her, holding out your hands for calm. “…Look, it’s an option.”

“Portal magic is not small beer, Deniel.” Thomas warned. “Can you handle it?”

>Get them in your head, time’s a wasting!

>You literally just finished finding out your parents were diablerists and you haven’t told anyone yet. Take a pass, avoid the risk.

>Sleep on it, see if another night of torrid sexual exploration will temper Thomas’s white-hot lust for his fiancee

>Something Else?

>>389436

A visit to the old noggi couldn't hurt. It's to help love and all.

Besides, Ellie might know some tricks in case shitty memories appear again.

>>389436

Ehh, Fuck it lets try it. We're going in with a concrete goal in mind. It is our mental landscape and we ultimately have full control over it.

Focus solely on the goal and cut out anything extra.

I actually think it’s a bad idea but I might get overruled here. We don’t exactly have the best control over our mind, and the revelation we had probably shook us up on multiple levels.

>”Me folks were good sorts, but they died while me and Robbo were still pretty young… I wouldn’t know.”

I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

>>389436

>Sleep on it, see if another night of torrid sexual exploration will temper Thomas’s white-hot lust for his fiancee

I generally agree with >>389470. Lets give them another try on their own before we do this. We need to spend some time meditating and sorting our mind before we bring anyone else into it, with a special exception for Cirice.

>>389436

listen to your friend, and go with the sleep on it option at the least

>>389436

>Sleep on it, see if another night of torrid sexual exploration will temper Thomas’s white-hot lust for his fiancee

Give 'em a day to see if they can't work it out, we can try if that doesn't take.

>Let them sleep on it

“I believe I could.” You admitted, sighing your acquiescence. “But maybe you’re right. Look, take tonight… It’s only your second night together after all, maybe we’re all just trying to force things before they’re ready to happen.”

“Works for me…” Thomas drawled lecherously, smiling at Ellie in anticipatory glee.

“You’re gonna be carrying me to Caladon if you keep this up.” Ellie giggles, half-heartedly fending off Thomas’s hands.

“Better get started then.” Thomas quipped, scooping the mage into a princess carry and bearing her off towards their tent.

“Two of them…” You groaned, shaking your head helplessly as the chorus of two couples venturing towards lovemaking began to colour the night. “…Mother Reitia… I am not going to get any sleep tonight, am I?”

Resigning yourself to the soft coos and moans coming from the tents, you knelt once again before the fire, crossing your hands in your lap and breathing steadily, chanting a silent prayer to Reitia.

>>389652

“Oh this is new…” You remarked with distaste, finding yourself ankle-deep in a foul smelling, brackish swamp. “…Cirice! Couldn’t you have picked a more ideal location?”

The croaking and buzzing of unseen swamp-dwelling life was your only answer, the sensation of the Cupid’s bond with you worryingly… indistinct.

“Another memory?” You murmured to yourself.

“Leave it!” Your mother’s harsh voice rang out, and you spun instinctively as figures crashed through the moss-laden, sickly trees. Grimacing, you called upon your magics, power crackling about your hands as the forms of your mother and father ran towards you.

“Oaduu Cal Vime…” You began, before faltering as your mother seemed to run THROUGH you, continuing onwards as if you weren’t even there.

“Be strong, Deniel!” You heard your father order, dragging the figure of your younger self bodily through the swamp, your child-self crying and helplessly gripping the malformed arm by which the man clasped him in an iron grip.

“…And The God spake then…” A new voice intruded, a golden light growing brighter in their wake “…Now thou shalt suffer My Burning Will…”

“Bitch of a priestess!” Your father snarled, dropping to a knee and gripping you by the shoulders. “Like I taught you, Deniel… Just like I taught you…”

“I’ll leave you behind!” Your mother warned.

“Whore…” The scarred man cursed, before placing a hand upon your brow, chanting in the Dark Tongue. You felt a sympathetic pang as some kind of marker was left within your younger self’s mind, before it was replaced with agony as your father casually sliced a finger from your hand.

“Eat the pain, boy. Eat it and nurture your hatred.” He murmured without sympathy for your agonized wailing, before turning, pursuing your mother through the smoking rift she had conjured.

Your child-self held his mutilated hand against his chest, wailing as he rocked back and forth, his mind a chaotic miasma of pain and fear. The golden light approached closer, and your younger self staggered backwards in terror, before falling onto his back in the brackish water.

“Mother Alison?” You murmured in shock as the glowing figure approached closer. Your last memory of her was that of a kindly, soft spoken priestess of middling age, but here she appeared the valkyrie, clad in luminant armor fit to shame the most puissant of Paladins. Your child self moaned and gibbered as she loomed over him, her face conflicted… thoughtful…

“Kill it!” A choral voice commanded, a triune of Celestial Angels bursting into existence behind her.

“It’s a child, Blessed and Glorious.” Alison objected, her stern gaze softening.

“It is an abomination, baptised with diablerie, imprisoning the shade of our sister!”

Alison turned to face them. “But a child!”

“If it is not within you to do this…” An echoing, male voice interrupted, as a Corvidian Knight appeared from a cloud of utter blackness, two Umbral angels trailing in his wake, his face obscured by that intimidating, raven-beaked helm. “…Then I will take this cup from you.”

“He. Is. A. CHILD!” Alison repeated hotly, striding towards the Black Knight without fear. “I will not permit such a Sin against Tyris to be enacted.”

“Your Chancel dead… the Holy Ground of Father Tyris defiled… Such foul perversity cannot be allowed to remain…” The Corvidian declared, drawing his black blade with an ominous ringing of otherworldly metal.

“Then you must strike me down also.” Alison declared, wrapping her arms about the cringing form of your child-self.

The Corvidian’s advance faltered. “Sister… Do not force me to do this…”

“If you remember love… if it means anything to you, brother dear… let me try. The Abbeys are yet pure, the children within taught to live holy and charitable lives… let me try!”

“You forsake the Heavens?!” The Celestials cried in a ringing chorus of denunciation.

“Canticle 30, verse 18: The innocence of a Child is Holy in My sight…” Alison intoned stubbornly “…Surely My wrath shall fall in abundance upon they who preserve it not. This is the Word of the Most High.”

“And I may not move against the Word of The God.” The Corvidian admitted with a note of… relief?

>>389653

“We will strip our blessing from you!” The Celestials warned. “You will again be a simple Priestess!”

“What The God Giveth, be it His will, He may taketh away.” Alison sighed, raising her eyes reverently to the heavens.

“So be it!” The Celestials declared, and Alison screamed as the armor and nimbus of light was torn from her, leaving her naught but a drawn, exhausted woman in a torn and stained priestess’s robe.

“You will answer to the Raven for your Failure…” The Umbrals promised.

“Then bear me to him quickly.” The Black Knight retorted, turning and advancing fearlessly towards them. “For I would not keep my Lord God waiting.”

The Umbrals seized the Black Knight by the arms before tearing open a hole in reality, the pitiless void within drawing the trio inwards, before closing with a thumping of displaced air.

“It hurts…” Your child self whimpered, staring pleadingly into Alison’s filth-streaked face.

“Sweet child, I know…” Alison comforted you, holding you to her bosom before raising her eyes again to heaven. “…It is done.”

A glowing of rose-coloured light intensified, and you prayed for something, anything else to emerge from it. But your prayers went unanswered, as Cirice’s unmistakable form suddenly burst into existence.

“He cannot remember this.” Cirice declared. “Mother Reitia has spoken.”

“As long as he has the chance to find peace on his own terms. Children are sacred in the eyes of Tyris.” Alison agreed.

“So much darkness…” Cirice lamented as she placed her hand on your head. “…Forget.”

The memory shimmered, the figures of your child-self, Mother Alison, and the Cupid vanishing as if they were so much mist in the swamp, leaving you utterly, unquestionable alone once more.

“You did it… It was you all along…” You murmured, your emotions awash with confusion.

She had forced herself upon your mind!

But she didn’t lie about it…

Neither did she tell the truth!

She had her reasons, the Holy Mother had said as much.

Did she truly love you? Or is this just another manipulation?

You’ve seen her heart… How can you question it?

But can you truly love her, knowing that she has manipulated your path with such finesse?

“She did warn you…” A dark, sardonic voice intruded, the cowled figure of the dark mage who sired you appearing in the swamp before you. “…Say what you like… She did warn you.”

“You!” You gasped, fury building in your chest. “How are you…”

“Your blood, your flesh…” Your father replied, his pointed teeth bared in a rictus of mirthless amusement as he touched the wizened talisman of a mummified finger hung about his neck. “…Your amnesia hid you from my scrying, but you… clever boy… you overcame restraints set in the name of a God! I’m impressed… and now…”

The man advanced on you, eyes glowing carmine with dark power “…I see you…”

>Call Cirice. She’s responsible for this, she can fucking deal with it.

>This guy nailed not one, but two angels at the same time. Don’t put Cirice at risk.

>Dark Magic, Light Magic, Neutral Magic, who cares? STOMP A MUDHOLE IN THIS CUNT.

>Play it cool, this is still your mind, you’re in control… you hope…

>Something Else?

>>389654

Kick your cunt of a dad in the balls. If he comes for us again, you'll kick his sorry ass.

You're your own man now.

Also, no matter what Cirise did in the past, it's clear she loves you now. And you love her. Acknowledge her involvement back then, but still show you care for her.

>>389654

>Play it cool, this is still your mind, you’re in control… you hope…

I'm thinking this. I don't doubt that we'd get wrecked in a magical duel with father dear since he already seemed scary competent when we were a kid. I don't want to risk Cirice either, but I I think if it comes down to it, we should call her if it goes to Hell. Theoretically we control things here, plus I'm hoping that if she does show up, it's harder to deal with angels in the mind space than the real world.

>>389659

Oh yeah, after this whole ordeal, ask Cirice to meddle in your head once more to block out your old man or at least muddle up the connection. We don't need that bastard peeping in on portal magic learning.

Out of the two, he was the only one that showed at least a little sympathy/care for us. Lease we can do is show the same for him. Hear him out, we may not agree on what he says, but at least we can get his side of the story, his reasoning, and his current plans/thoughts on/for us.

We may have to kill or fight him at somepoint, but we do not have to hate him. Hate is the antithesis of our faith. If we are to overcome it, we must understand the other side of the conflict.

>>389654

Call him a whipped bitch. Who the fuck calls his wife "mistress"? Bet she's sleeping around too.

Keep our cool and show the old man a little love. We're the bigger guy here after all.

>>389694

what would the next step be in our master plan after dealing with him?

>>389654

>Play it cool, this is still your mind, you’re in control… you hope…

Focus deeply on maintaining control. Try to find out what they want from you. If things go south then call upon Cirice. We need to speak with Cirice, or possibly even Reitia, about how to protect our mind from his scrying. This is a big problem.

>>389666

>He's not such a bad guy

Even if he showed the smallest amount of sympathy for his own child, he probably views us more as a tool than a human. His previous kindness was probably just emotional manipulation. He ruthlessly murdered Kimmy with hellfire, and he has probably committed countless other atrocities. He does not deserve any sympathy.

>>389670

I believe their relationship is like that between a literal slave and owner.

Also, lets not hold this against Cirice. She did what she did to protect us. Even if it was extremely invasive magic, it was a kindness. I'm sure she already feels bad enough about it.

>>389709

If anything the fact that our dad has found us so quickly is proof that she was right and we were better off not knowing

>Play it cool, but be ready to summon Cirice

>Talk to her once you’re shot of daddy dearest

“That’s close enough, monster.” You snapped, tamping down your rage until it compressed into a cold, calculating anger.

The man’s eyes widened in admiration, yet he kept advancing. “Control… Good… This would have been much harder if you were a gibbering wreck… But you’re deluding yourself if you think your magics can match…”

The remainder of his sentence was cut off in a wheezing, choked groan as you snapped your foot forward, kicking him soundly between the legs. You dropped back into a wary guard as he collapsed to his knees, coughing and spitting into the brackish water.

“Magic is limited by the flesh that wields it, so a mage’s first duty is to ensure his flesh remains strong, his mind, sharply focused.” You intoned. “Seems your tutelage was lacking, filth.”

The man took a deep, rasping breath, regaining his feet and sliding the cowled cloak from about his shoulders, leaving him bare to the waist, the tattoos and scars tracing blasphemies across his torso. Raising his own hands, he nodded approvingly at you. “Master Hideki’s words, unless I miss my guess.”

Your eyes narrowed as you began to circle each other in the brackish water, each studying the other for an opening. “How did you…”

“He was Enochian, once… Took to the temple for ‘Penance’ after we gutted his apprentices… Tough old bird… Would you believe I miss him?”

“I wouldn’t believe you on the colour of shit.” You snarled, launching a testing strike, withdrawing as he parried it easily.

“You’re upset. I can appreciate that…” The man noted, launching a flurry of strikes which drove you backwards. “…You’re over-focused on defense. That’s a weakness.”

“Comes from sparring with Oni.” You retorted, feinting left before hooking your fist under the man’s scarred, tattooed ribcage.

The man wheezed as the blow impacted, yet managed to retain enough equilibrium to grip your wrist, wrenching it backwards and whipping his free hand around to strike you in your now unprotected side. “I can tell, you punch like you’re hitting bricks.”

You wheezed as the man released your grip, shaking his head and staring at you quizzically. “And you’re fighting me fairly… here of all places… You could dream me into the bottom of a matango pit… bury me in a sheet of solid rock… yet you’re fighting me fairly… why?”

“Because I’m not like you.” You hissed defiantly, resuming your guard.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” The man sighed. “You can fight me until the sun burns out and Corvus draws the curtains on existence and you’ll never beat me while you hold to this ridiculous mindset.”

“There’s nothing ridiculous about honour!”

“Isn’t there?” The man snarled, stepping inside your guard and pressing a long-nailed finger against your forehead. “Pain is in here. Nowhere else. You could have eaten the pain when I cut off your finger, used it to spur those shades in your soul to empower you… You could have sterilized this entire swamp…”

“Kill a priestess? A Mother of the Abbey? A woman who showed me more love in ten minutes than either of you two CREATURES showed me in all the horrible years you had me?” You retorted incredulously.

“Love?” The man echoed mockingly. “Love is fleeting… Power is eternal…”

“Such a fine husband you must be…” You spat.

“Husband? Oh that whore wishes someone would be so stupid…” The man scoffed. “…I was her servant… her slave… Nothing more.”

“So you’re here now to bring me back, an obedient dog on a leash?” You drawled witheringly.

“Have a care Deniel…” The man snarled warningly “…You may be master of this house but there are so many breakable things within it.”

“Then what do you want?”

The man paused, looking at you quizzically, running his tongue over pointed teeth. “To be certain I’m not entirely sure… Academically I’m aware of the years that have passed but somehow I was still expecting the boy. Pliant. Mouldable. But you’ve hardened, hardened to man, to fine, fine man… Even if you have allowed the rot of affection to pollute your…”

“HERESY!” You howled in righteous fury.

The man laughed “Look at what they’ve done! You traded a cage for a leash, and put the collar about your neck willingly. The Cupid butchered your mind like a farmer gelds a horse, and you still think sweet and loving thoughts about her… Maybe I should have let your whore mother seduce you…”

You staggered backwards, retching at the concept, the revolting image playing far too clearly behind your eyes.

The man nodded in a strange sort of sympathy at your distress, and the image faded. “No, you’re right, no man goes willingly between those thighs… Not even me…”

>>389970

“Is that what you intended?!” You demanded desperately, the horror of it all weighing heavily in your guts.

“What SHE intended.” The man corrected you. “You need to understand this whole sorry business was her idea. She believed that she had been slighted by the gods. After all, was she not of the bloodline? But no, once again a human woman was passed up in favour of mamono.”

“Talk sense!” You insisted.

“Hathor, boy. She was of the line of Hathor. Well, of one of them, anyway.”

Your mouth worked incredulously for a moment as the sheer ridiculousness of the concept struggled to find purchase. “Hathor is never a human, it’s unthinkable!” you finally managed to blurt.

“I know that, you know that…” the man admitted “…but she could never accept it. Not to be Empress of the Westerlands. Not to be High Priestess of Ammit. Not to be more than a moderately talented mage… It drove her quite mad… quite mad indeed.”

You folded your arms across your chest, somewhat taken aback by the man’s frankness. “Then who are you?”

“Who I am, or who I was? Because I WAS steward of the Grand Lodge of Resonance, with all the power and prestige that accompanied it…” The man snarled witheringly. “…Reality itself was my plaything and then the Logos just picked up and abandoned us. Saving the world was suddenly too much effort and once again we had to sacrifice the reins of our own destiny to the fickle whims of the Gods.”

“The Twilight. But Mother Reitia…”

“Mother Reitia…” The man echoed. “…did you ever wonder why she’s so obsessed with mortals? Human and Mamono alike?”

“She Loves us! Unconditionally!” You declared without the slightest hint of doubt.

“Tell you that herself, did she?”

“Yes, in fact!” You retorted hotly.

“Well…” the man drawled, his smile broadening, and a worm of concern built in your guts at how pleased that fact seemed to make him. “…Would you like to know a secret?”

“If I agree, will you get gone?”

The man gave a harsh bark of laughter. “As you will. The fundamental difference between Humans and Mamono. Mamono are born in the image of God, which is why over the millenia such a big deal’s been made of the idiosyncrasies of their birth. Mamono could never bear Human sons because MAOU had never had a son. They could not surpass their ruler. All that changed with Corvus.”

“Rubbish.” You scoffed. “The Male Mamono after the redemption…”

“Was resonants forcing the knowledge INTO Maou, and yet imperfectly… I wasn’t there myself but the Lodge kept very detailed records… that in and of itself is a conversation which…”

“Get on with it, I don’t relish your company so much that I’ll succor your tangents.” You snapped.

“Fair.” The man conceded. “Ever wonder why humans remain so consistent, when Mamono can’t seem to go an eon without the rules of their existence changing? Ever had the chance to study the history of human mythology? Gods, Deniel, Gods piled high like corpses in a mass grave. They swarm here like flies in a trap and remain until they are forgotten or eaten by a stronger member of their kind. Our faith, our worship is as sweet elixir to them, and they CANNOT turn away. Reitia’s interesting, she’s either very old or very young, and I can’t tell which… but she knows how to keep bees. Don’t maul the hive like a bear at a hollow log, or the bees will swarm and kill you… evidence Ilias, God-Before-Tyris… But Husband the bees, build them frame and comb, keep their dwellings dry and their bellies full, and they will not begrudge your blatant theft of their largesse.”

“You liken the All-Mother of Creation to a BEEKEPER?” You scoffed mockingly “And you declare the woman who bore me mad.”

The man smirked at you. “What are the Mellisari, Deniel, Houris or Hive-Queens? She’s hardly sparing with the parallels. The point is, Humanity doesn’t exist by the will of the Gods, they exist because of us!”

You shook your head, rubbing at your temple as the image of the swamp fell away, revealing the twilight of the astral plane behind it, the fractal maze of The Path spreading out in all directions. “You’re seriously going to the effort of invading my mind so you can try and sell me on a re-cooked version of the Raphaellian Heresy? And to think I ever had fear of you…”

“Raphael was Tyris’s attack dog who finally comprehended the leash. You don’t look to a Seraphim for philosophical subtleties. But the logic stands.”

You snickered helplessly, your lip curling in utter disdain. “You’re insane, and I’m quite done with…”

>>389971

“So what does this have to do with you, Father?” The man squeaked in a comical falsetto from the corner of his mouth. “Well I’m glad you asked.”

“I didn’t…” You interjected.

“Shut up and listen.” The man insisted. “If there’s one courtesy from the Lodge I’ll insist remains alive it’s full disclosure amongst peers. This matters, because of your mother. I was rudderless after Mnemosyne ripped the Awakening from my mind, I had nothing but my wits, some small coin, and the merest fragment of magical ability thanks to my bloodline. Minor cantrips, barely enough to call attention to myself… But it was enough. I was caught of course, cheating at cards if memory serves, then for the resultant brawl… someone may have had their neck opened… the waylander sentenced me to indentured servitude. An orderly for a local mage of quite influential family. Quite mad, she was. Convinced she was the Goddess Isis reborn, when she wasn’t howling at the moon. Nobody else was stupid enough to take the job. My options were that or the block, no prizes for guessing my choice.”

“Two star-crossed lovers meet.” You drawled icily.

“More I met with her books while fawning at the appropriate outbursts and dodging the occasional magically hurled bedpan. I read, and I learned… The Blood is the Life, a basic alchemical law, just ask any Vampire. The right incantations, the right sigils, the occasional help from something in the Malebolge with a grudge… It’s remarkably easy to rip the magic from another mage once you’ve got the momentum going, and unlike we once-resonants, they at least have the blessing not to survive the process.”

You recoiled in disgust. “You killed other mages… did this ‘Diablery’ to them… to steal their magic?”

“I think he’s catching on…” The man crowed to the twilight. “…The point is, after draining an Archmage I came to an interesting conclusion. Dark Magic in general, not just Diablerie, has no ceiling! It’s like Resonance all over again except this time I don’t need to worry about some crystalline Deus Ex Machina taking over my body at an inopportune moment. Everything is Power, EVERYTHING. Between man and mage, between mage and Lilim or Angel, between Lilim and God… It’s only a question of degree.”

“Hence… me…” You breathed, staggering slightly as the revelation overcame you.

“Yes! You!” The man crowed. “I let that woman slake her desires on my rod… I was hardly in a position to deny her… She knew about the Diablery, was a more than willing practitioner of the Dark Arts, after all, who was there to tell a ‘Goddess’ no? And when my get quickened in her I thought for certain she’d lose it, she certainly didn’t take care of herself, let alone the life within her… But you survived, and hardly the worse for it. Oh sure, the arm, a little acromegaly in the jaw… but otherwise healthy. And when she cast you from her barely dry from the womb, I thought there was no way my inexpert care would keep you alive, but even as an infant you positively SANG with potential… I couldn’t just throw you away.”

“You said this was her idea.” You spat accusingly.

“Mine to keep you, Hers to turn you into a God.”

“Turn me into a who the what now?” You wheezed, bug eyed in disbelief.

“Keep up Deniel, do you want me gone or not?” the man chided casually. “The way that madwoman’s plan worked, we fill you with Angel until you’re strong enough to subsume a fragment of a dead God, Then she seduces you, gets a god-child in her, and before it’s brought to term, she diablerizes you and Bob’s the guy your mother acts like she doesn’t know.”

>>389972

“A Dead God? The concept…” You blurted incredulously.

“See Dagon in Atlantea. That is not Dead which can Eternal Lie and so on.”

“You failed there.” You hissed mockingly.

“Me? No…” The man shook his head. “Nothing to do with me, that. That was the Tel’Qessir… Elves… Sneaky fuckers thought they’d just sidle in while we all still thought them extinct and take over the joint, but they weren’t exactly counting on Humans having adapted so well. Irrelevant in any case.”

“So you’re just keeping tabs on me because of my… potential…” You drawled suspiciously.

“You’re the only human on this rock with the potential of an Archmage and two Angel’s souls currently bound to his just to add some extra weight to it. You could go a long way, and I could be there when it happens.”

“Until you decide to bleed me.”

“It’s a possibility, but you’re AWARE of it.” The man replied without the slightest hint of remorse. “That already gives you an advantage.”

“I’m trying to find a stronger way to say, ‘Get thee behind me, Heretic Filth’, but I’m drawing a blank.” You snerked with as much venom as you could muster.

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t reply like that. But think on this, Deniel. You don’t get to the kind of Power I have without that you’ve learned to see into time a little. Imperfectly, I’ll admit, but there’s one constant to my visions. You come before me, alone, and you call me Father.”

“NEVER!” You yelled, every fibre of your being screaming in utter denial, your very soul straining with the desire to CAST. HIM. OUT.

“Rail against fate all you like…” The man replied whimsically, gradually fading into nothingness “…But you’ll come…”

“Deniel! Deniel!” Thomas’s voice shattered your meditations, the adept shaking your shoulders as you returned to reality.

“Thomas…” You sighed in relief. “… My apologies, was I loud?”

“Every mage in ten leagues probably got woken up by that fuckin’ scream, mate.” Ellie glowered, a blanket wrapped hurriedly around her to preserve her modesty. Her expression softened in concern. “Y’orright?”

“Ghosts.” You explained nebulously, not quite willing to bare the truth of what had occurred to your fellow mages. You stood up, brushing the dust of the road from your knees. “And I need to make sure they’re gone.”

“Deniel please, you haven’t been the same since Dagon, if something’s the matter…” Thomas began, grabbing your arm as you began to walk away from the fire.

“Soon Thomas… But right now I need to do something.”

“As you will, Brother.” Thomas conceded, releasing your arm.

“Angonamo…” Ellie interjected “…I still wanna know why you mind-shrieked like a fuckin’ banshee and put me off kilter when I was…”

<You have learned the NEUTRAL magic: Mind-Shriek - Highly distracting psychic scream, has a chance to put a mage off casting, lessening with the ability of the opponent

“Oversharing, love…” Thomas chuckled, sliding an arm about the blanket-clad mage, squeezing her buttock and leading her back towards the tent “…And we’re more than capable of picking up where we left off.”

“Ooh!” Ellie whimpered, biting her lip as she eagerly allowed the Adept to guide her back into the warm darkness of their tent.

You smiled involuntarily. You had been concerned, in the overwhelming throes of new love, that Thomas would be wholly subservient to the more experienced Australian. It was good to see he still kept his own council. You turned away from the fire, cresting the gentle slope of a hill, lit with soft silver as the gibbous moon painted it from the heavens. An owl-harpy about her business hooted a polite ‘Good Evening’ to you as she ghosted overhead, her wings silent in the cool night air. You smiled, waving absently in response, before coming to a halt in the sheltered valley at the hill’s base.

“Ne Pireda Cirice…” You murmured, tracing a magic circle in the air once again, and once again, a rose-coloured glow built within, until with a soundless shockwave, Cirice was made suddenly manifest.

“Hello again, my love…” Cirice smiled meltingly, reaching a hand out to stroke your face.

“I remember the swamp, Cirice.” You remarked simply.

Cirice’s hand froze in midair, before dropping to her side, her face falling in utter shame, tears running down her face.

“I t-told you you’d hate me…” She sobbed.

You blinked in surprise. “What? No!”

“I t-took your memories and I w-wasn’t even honest with you!” The Cupid wailed, burying her face in her hands.

“Cirice…” You sighed, wrapping your arms about her, holding her head against your chest. “…If you need forgiveness, you have it, unconditionally. I love you.”

“R-really?” Cirice sniffed, looking up at you through teary eyes.

“Really Really.” You smiled, kissing her perfect mouth. “You were only acting on the Holy Mother’s commands, right?”

“She knew it would hurt you… She didn’t want you to hurt…” Cirice explained.

“And I thank Her for Her mercies.”

Cirice stroked your face tenderly “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do it properly…”

Your brow furrowed with puzzlement. “What’s that?”

“Thank Her… for giving me you…”

“We’ll find a way together.” You assured her, your heart positively melting under the onslaught of the Cupid’s eyes.

>>389974

“So why did you summon me?” Cirice asked, kissing you again for good measure, her eyes slightly naughty. “Couldn’t stay away?”

“Yes… I mean no, but… well…” You blustered.

“Something else happened in the swamp, didn’t it?” Cirice interjected, her expression suddenly studious.

“Before you appeared, that man who sired me…” You explained, deliberately avoiding the ‘F’ word “…He put something in my mind, then gave me this for good measure.” You explained, holding up your four-fingered hand. “He used both to enter my mind. We… Talked… after a fashion.”

“Is he still there?” Cirice asked plainly.

“I don’t know, that’s what I would like to ask your help with. You know me like nobody else, love. If anyone can change the locks on him, it’s you.”

“Even knowing what I’ve done, you still want me in your mind?” Cirice murmured disbelievingly.

“I trust you.” You replied without thought.

Cirice’s lip quivered, and the Angel threw her arms and wings about you, sobbing uncontrollably. “Oh Deniel! Y-you’re too good for me!”

“Pretty sure that’s Blasphemy…” You chuckled gently, stroking the cupid’s rose-coloured hair.

“Well…” Cirice sniffed, wiping her eyes and gently seperating herself from you. “Let’s get started.” The angel knelt upon the soft grass, her wings open and radiating pale light. Nodding, you moved to mirror her pose.

“Ut ut…” Cirice chided, patting her lap with a delicate hand. “…Here Deniel.”

Shrugging your acceptance, you lay your head in the cupid’s lap, relaxing your body on the cold earth as best you could.

“Sleep, my love…” Cirice whispered, taking your face in her hands and smiling down at you as reality shimmered and faded away.

>>389975

“Deniel!” a voice called out to you, as you stood staring at a simple country garden, freshly dug soil lined out in neat rows before you. You blinked, all uncomprehending at the dirt on your hands and the rake and hoe leant against a fencepost. You turned, seeking the source of that voice, and spied a welcoming-looking abode, simple, but not rude. Rustic, yet comfortable. Warmth filled your heart and your feet moved towards it almost without your conscious action. You stretched forth your hand to open it, the solid oaken door creaking softly as if the house itself greeted you.

“I’m here” You called, looking about the cozy entrance for the person who had called to you.

“In the Kitchen.” The voice replied, and again your feet seemed to move of their own accord, bringing you to a warm, bright kitchen, sun streaming through the windows and a delicious smell permeating the air. And there, bathed in light, the rose-haired, winged form of Cirice, sitting demurely on a chair as she picked at embroidery with a thread-cutter. She was wearing naught but a humble sundress, but in that moment she looked more regal than all the princesses and queens who had ever lived.

“Hello Love…” you breathed, moving to embrace her.

“Don’t you dare.” Cirice chided, looking up at you, her nose crinkling as she smiled. “Wash those filthy hands first, mister.”

You laughed, pumping water into the basin on the counter and thoroughly scrubbing your hands. As an afterthought, you soaked a cloth, wiping the sweat of exertion from your face.

“Better?” You asked with a grin.

“Much.” Cirice replied, leaving the chair and throwing her arms around you, kissing you deeply and lingeringly. Your hands roamed along her body, and the Cupid gasped at your touch.

“Dinner’s almost ready… Later.” She promised with a naughty smile, disengaging herself from your hands and giving you a wink. “Call the children?”

“Children?” you echoed, and Cirice gave a cry of mock outrage, throwing a tea-towel at you.

“Go on! And make sure that son of ours doesn’t have any more frogs in his pockets!”

You shook your head, all bemused, before noticing what was on the embroidery. A bleeding eye, with horrible runes all around it, was being methodically picked apart by the Cupid’s delicate hands.

“That’s hideous.” You remarked.

“Isn’t it?” Cirice agreed with a look of distaste “I’m almost done though.”

“Children!” You called helplessly as you once again stepped outside. Girlish giggling answered you, as two rose-winged girls flitted about not far above the ground at the edge of the field. Something fumbled and thrashed around in the grass beneath them, before a howl of frustration rang out, along with a word…

''Zodiladare!”

A boyish figure levitated from the ground to join the girls, as they crowed their approval

“You did it!”

“Yay!”

“I knew you could!”

“Best brother ever!”

<You have learned the Neutral spell: Levitation - Raises the caster or another object into the air.

One of the girls turned in mid air. “Now, race us…” Her eyes met yours “…Uh oh.”

“What’s the… Uh oh.” Her sister replied, also spying you.

“Is there another…” The boy queried, teeth clenched as he steadied himself in midair, before his gaze in turn met yours. “…Uh oh.”

You struggled to keep from laughing, as your arm moved on its own, beckoning the children approach. They dropped to the earth in front of you, the boy somewhat more clumsily than his sisters.

“Wash up for dinner, girls.” The words left your mouth as if unbidden. “I need to speak to your brother.”

“Yes Daddy.” The girls replied obediently, slipping around you and into the house.

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again I promise!” The boy almost sobbed, utterly terrified.

“What in the name of Reitia are you talking about, son?” You asked incredulously, kneeling down to look him in his frightened eyes.

“I did m-magic… Johnny says kids who do magic get sent away…”

“Your friend Johnny…” You began, lighting a flame in your hand with a casual muttering of Ialprg “…Is a bit dumb.”

“Then you won’t send me away? The boy sniffed, rubbing his nose on his sleeve as you extinguished the fire.

“You’ll have to study… Now don’t start… It’s Sea-of-grasses! You’ll barely notice you’re gone. And do you honestly think your mother will be able to last a week without a hug from her best helper?” You chuckled, patting the boy on the head. “You’ll see plenty of me, and your sisters, and your mother, and you’ll make amazing new friends, and be taught by some of the wisest men and women I’ve ever met.”

“Then I can come home?”

“If you like…” You begin, “…Or you might want to go on pilgrimage, like I did, become a Temple Adept. You might want to apprentice yourself to a trader or artisan, travel the world… You might want to serve Tyris or Corvus… become a mighty Knight or Paladin, and defend the weak. Whatever you do, whatever you choose. You’re my son, and I will always love you, and Mother Reitia will always be with you.”

“I love you dad.” the boy sobbed, throwing his arms around you.

“I love you…” You echoed, a knot building in your throat as your unconditional love for this boy overwhelmed you. “…Now wash up. We have a special guest for dinner.”

Now how did you know that?

“Finally caught him at it?” Cirice murmured as you re-entered the house.

“Mmm-hmm.” You admitted, embracing the cupid and relishing the smell of her hair.

“Don’t see why you couldn’t have just confronted him on it.” Cirice sighed, returning your embrace.

“He would have lied. The Circle’s made itself no friends with the way they ship off neophyte mages without so much as a by-your-leave… and children will make up stories.”

“Does it concern you? How they’re manifesting their powers younger and younger?”

“Not while Love remains.” You replied, kissing the cupid softly.

“I believe that’s my cue…” A new voice intruded, and you separated from the cupid, staggering backwards slightly as the unmistakable form of Reitia stood framed in your doorway.

“Mother!” Cirice cried joyously, enfolding the diminutive Goddess in arm and wing.

“Have a care, Cirice!” Reitia warned, “You’ll squash the pie!”

“Allow me, Holy Mother.” You offered, taking the pie-dish from her hands. “Ahhhh ow ow ow ow…” You gasped, hurrying to the kitchen as the dish threatened to burn you.

“It’s hot!” Reitia called from behind you, her voice shaking with suppressed laughter.

“Mama Reitia!” Two voices cried in unison as twin rose blurs flew down the hallway to embrace the Goddess.

“My you’ve grown!” Reitia praised, patting each of them on the head.

“H-holy Mother.” your son intoned hesitantly, putting his hand over his left breast and bowing slightly.

“Sweet boy… have I done you some wrong that I no longer get a hug?” Reitia mused in faux-lament.

“I’m gonna be a mage like Dad…” your son replied. “…and that’s how he does it.”

“And you’ll be a wonderful mage.” Reitia assured him. “But you’re not one yet, and until then, I demand My Divine Tribute!”

“Yes Mama Reitia…” Your son laughed, embracing the Goddess without a hint of shame.

“Help me set the table.” Cirice instructed, shepherding the children away as you re-entered.

“This isn’t real, is it?” You murmured to Reitia as you closed the door behind her.

“A possibility. Your father offered you power, and I won’t lie to you, Deniel, you do have the capacity to seize it. But I want to show you the rewards of Love. No castle, nor title, nor wealth, nor status… Nothing but devoted wife, loving children, and the joy of the time shared together… If this is enough for you…”

“Enough?” You echoed incredulously. “You show me paradise.”

“I’m so glad.” Reitia smiled warmly, leaning up to kiss your cheek. “And Cirice is quite finished… It’s time to wake up…”

>>389977

“Wake up, Deniel…” Cirice murmured “…It’s done.”

“Good morning…” You smiled up at the cupid, the gentle light of morning warming the earth around you. “…Are you alright?”

“He is a very unpleasant man. It was almost pleasurable to flense him from your psyche.” Cirice replied, shuddering slightly.

“I still remember him though.” You murmured, standing and stretching out limbs rendered stiff from the cold.

“You will, but he can’t find you with your finger any more.” Cirice explained. “The anchor needed to be unravelled from you like…”

“Plucking embroidery from cloth.” You interjected.

Cirice’s eyes widened “That’s a very apt analogy. How did you…”

“The Holy Mother showed me something wonderful while I slept.”

“Well?” Cirice prompted, sliding her arms around your shoulders and smiling up at you cheekily.

“I’d rather show you…” You replied, kissing the Cupid softly. “I’d rather spend the rest of my life showing you.”

“Well that’s ominous…” Cirice remarked. “…Can you give me a hint?”

“You look great in a sundress.” You mused cryptically, kissing her again.

“Deniel!” Ellie’s voice rang over the hilltop. “Where the fuck have you buggered off to?”

>Tell Thomas and Ellie what’s been going on

>Keep it secret, go back alone

>Don’t say anything but invite Cirice back for breakfast.

>Fuck ‘em. Keep kissing Cirice.

>Something Else?

>>389978

Invite our wonderful soon to be wife cupid to breakfast.

Then when everything's good and settled, try out that portal magic stuff.

>>389703

That will come later, brother. For now

>>389978

We keep the lid on our revelations to the uninitiated and invite Cirice to breakfast.

>>389978

>>Don’t say anything but invite Cirice back for breakfast.

This. I think we should probably tell them some point before the wedding though. Otherwise, I expect this to bite us in the ass if we just sit on it.

Let’s invite Cirice for breakfast. We should tell Thomas and Ellie. They’re going to be curious about what’s going on and we’ve probably worried them enough.

>>389978

don't say anything and invite Cirice back for food. if Thomas and Ellie ask give them a five cent tour so they know what's going on but don't give away the farm either

>>389978

>Tell Thomas and Ellie what’s been going on AND invite Cirice back for breakfast.

Lets invite Cirice back with us. I'm sure the others would be glad to see her as well.

Break the bad news to Thomas and Ellie. They should know at this point. You need not go into the full gritty details. Particularly the part about having angel souls forcefully bound to you. But give them the general idea. Parents are notoriously evil dark mages who are hunting for us…and probably want to abuse our powers.

But lets also share some good news. During the meal, announce your engagement to Cirice to everyone. That will show that we truly forgive her. It has sort of been a secret up until this point. Make a fun showing of it to turn her even more pink.

>>390026

>announce engagement

We need to finish the pilgrimage first don’t we? I’m all for it but we haven’t unlocked the adept intersect yet

>>390219

>We need to finish the pilgrimage first don’t we? I’m all for it but we haven’t unlocked the adept intersect yet

People announce engagements all the time. We'll, of course, say that the marriage isn't planned until after Deniel's pilgrimage ends. That has the plan all along. So why not? Besides, I think it would make Cirice happy.

>>390220

>>390219

I mean, when Deniel proposed to Cirice, he did it with the condition that he first finishes his pilgrimage. And she was perfectly happy to accept that.

>>390026

Ehh I disagree with the engagement. This is supposed to be their happy time, And ours is still very far off at this point. Announcing now would just be stealing their thunder

>>389971

Also friend you dropped a shit load of lore into this but I don't understand how some of it connects, Can you explain a bit deeper?

What is the significance of the Hathor bloodline? Same deal with the Grand Lodge of Resonance. Who/what are the "Logos"?

>>“Was resonants forcing the knowledge INTO Maou, and yet imperfectly"

What?

>>Mnemosyne ripped the Awakening from my mind.

Again, What?

I don't know if this is from previous work or if my reading comprehension is just being garbage but I'd like those explained if you would.

>>390316

>Can you explain a bit deeper?

Happy to.

>What is the significance of the Hathor bloodline?

Horus and Hathor are the Eternal High Priest/esses of Ammit. Rather than making Her Annointed immortal, Ammit has their souls reincarnate along the same bloodline. Horus is always a Human Male, and Hathor is always a Mamono Female, usually Taurean/Holstaur but there are apocryphal accounts of her being an Anubis on occasion. According to myth, Hathor and Horus have existed for as long as the world, but considering Mamono first appeared in this plane of reality only circa 2020CE (Current year is approximately 10500CE give or take) this is perhaps merely an Anachronism.

(See 'Chronicles of the Pax')

>Grand Lodge of Resonance.

Imadium Crystal matricies were extrasolar objects which fell to earth in the early/mid 2040s. These were widely studied for that reason, and deemed to be a hazardous material due to the radiant energy they emitted rendering a number of humans vegetative on contact with the objects, until their capacity for seemingly limitless data storage and nearly instantaneous recall, as well as their operation as a room-temperature superconductor drove Humanity (As well as Tech-savvy Mamono) to utilize them in computing, sending technological progress into the stratosphere.

A number of isolated incidents stretching from approximately 2500 proved that the matricies were capable of reworking and 'networking' with specific human minds, the common factor for a successful networking never discovered. These humans had the capability to issue commands through this network, causing something as yet unknown to act on their behalf, reworking reality according to the Human's desire. This culminated in 2642, where the 'Lodges of History', a clandestine organization formed from the combination of a number of fraternal, historical and archeological organizations successfully 'Awakened' enough of their members to what they call 'Resonance' to openly revolt against the then World-Dominating Order of Ilias, currently in open war against Mamono.

The details of this external force which these 'Resonants' called 'The Logos' was a matter of conjecture until the yet-nascent God Corvus discovers a Silicate Alien structure in low earth orbit. Bringing it to Earth, Resonants now for the first time in their history can interface directly with the Lithomorphic consciousness present in this structure, who eventually takes the appelation of 'Mnemosyne'.

(See basically everything from 'Australian in a strange land' through to 'Twilight of the Gods')

>resonants forcing the knowledge INTO Maou

"The Redemption" as it became known, was a united act by nearly all of the world's Resonants to alter Mamono to be able to breed cognizent Male offspring, though admittedly at a vastly reduced birthrate from females. Prior to this Male Mamono were monstrous, near-mindless creatures, which along with the agendered 'Null' comprised what was colloquially known as 'Maou's Shame'. This halfway measure was sufficient to begin grandfathering civilization out of the 'Pax Deus', a global Theocratic system of government which brokered alliance between Maou and The God Tyris, who succeeded Ilias after her fall, and rigidly dictated the permissible interaction between Humans and Mamono.

(See 'Chronicles of the Pax)

This in its own turn ended when Corvus was born. Male Mamono were no longer born, but Mamono began to occasionally birth Human Male offspring, who were usually fairly well guaranteed to have at least some magical affinity.

>Mnemosyne ripped the Awakening from my mind.

During the latter days of what is known as 'The Great Twilight', the Logos, Mnemosyne, fearing for Humanity's continuance under the assault of Entropy (also Apophis, its Harbinger.) Subsumed as many of 'her' Human 'Platforms' as would agree to the process, stripping those who refused (With the Exception of Samuel the Caladonian) of their ability to command the manipulation of reality.

With this ability gone, Humanity were totally reliant upon Magic and the Divine Blessings bestowed upon annointed followers of the individual Gods, a point which rankles those of an age to remember to this day.

(See 'Twilight of the Gods')

I've also got a basic (And possibly unintentonally retconned) Timeline if it'll help.

https://pastebin.com/mLYVx9NY

>>390322

Also I have a (very) basic glossary (Mostly Pax-focused so some of it may no longer be relevant)

https://pastebin.com/Nk8ndpRa

Also Spell Pastebin's updated

https://pastebin.com/5GYq5jeF

>>390311

>Announcing now would just be stealing their thunder

I see no issue with announcing it now, over a meal. Waiting to announce it until the day of their wedding ceremony would certainly be stealing their thunder. I just thought it is silly to keep our relationship with Cirice a secret. She might even think we are ashamed of it or something.

>>390322

Thanks for the extra info.

>>390322

The more of this I read the more I learn I have no fucking idea what is going on. This is obviously a connected universe that you've developed over a number of cyoa's right? While I am greatly enjoying this ride I'd like to also start from the beginning so I can naturally digest the deep lore you've built up. Where can I find your other works?

And if you actually did make all this up on the spot, Please don't taking so much drugs, Its not healthy

>>390392

All my completed autism ends up on tft

http://touchfluffytail.org/?author=180

Because snail hasn't finished the alternative.

Chronologically it goes as follows:

>A spark of inspiration

>Australian in a strange land

>Under foreign skies

>The sweetness of poisoned fruit

>Child of the Australs

>Chronicles of the pax

>Tales of the walker

>The Pilgrimage (You are Here)

>drugs

Alcohol and caffeine remain my only vices, sadly.

>>390405

Twilight of the gods between 'walker' and 'pilgrimage derp

Welp, I'll have to read all that as I have time. Because the universe is fantastic. It's awesome to be a part of molding the next branch of the story too.

>>390526

Yep!

>>390531

I just finished reading A Spark of Inspiration. If you to come up with a name for the universe you've created, what would you call it?

>>390961

I probably wouldn't. 'XXX-Verse' smacks of reddit and I've succumbed to that egotism before. I just say all of my stories take place within the same universe and leave it at that, but that's a me thing.

>>391008

That's fair. Just thought I'd ask since you never mentioned it.

>Tell Thomas and Ellie… Broad strokes mind, no need to go mentioning angels stuck to our soul. Also mention engagement.

>Invite Cirice back with you.

“Coming love?” You grin, taking the cupid by the hand.

“Are you sure?” Cirice murmured, her face lighting up with pleased surprise.

“We’re down here, Ellie!” You called, firing a glowing spark into the air with a brief incantation.

“Right, gotcha…” Ellie’s absent yell responded. “…don’t move!”

“Don’t move? Ellie what…” You began, before reality went profoundly tits up. There was no air to breathe, yet no time in which to draw breath, no space in which to recoil in surprise, no light to shine upon your surrounds, no sound for your scream to echo throughout, only a distinct sense of strange motion, and the cupid’s warm, comforting hand in your own.

With an abruptness that shocked your every sense, reality returned, and you blinked as you beheld the camp suddenly not a handful of paces away from you. With a thump of displaced air, the female human appeared beside you.

“See? Safe as hous… OH TYRIS, that’s an Angel!” Ellie exclaimed, her smug confidence replaced with an almost terrified awe.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve seen me, Mage of the Circle.” Cirice smiled benignly.

“Yeh, but there’s passed the fuck out, wrapped in a blanket, and then there’s… now.” Ellie explained helplessly.

“We’re back then?” Robbo remarked, poking at the fire, a bubbling pot suspended from metal tripod above it. Noticing Cirice, he tugged his forelock absently. “G’day. Stayin’ for breakfast?”

“I wouldn’t impose…” Cirice blushed self-consciously, and your heart melted at how adorable she looked in that moment.

“Nah she’s right. Either you eat it or the Bungas will, and those fat shits are babied enough as is.” Robbo smirks, flipping a rude gesture at the huge lizards staring at the pot with myopic hunger.

“Robbo what the bastard have you been up to that you can shrug off a fuckin’ celestial trailin’ clouds of glory and shit?!” Ellie demanded.

“Cupid…” Cirice corrected. “…And they are rather ostentatious aren’t they? Naughty clouds… naughty…”

Ellie’s mouth worked, fishlike, searching for a response to that, while her brother collapsed into paroxyms of mirth, rolling on the ground as his braced leg gave way under him.

“What’s so funny?” Thomas asked, bearing another armload of wood. Noticing Cirice, he dropped the wood, placing his hand briefly over his heart and bowing slightly. “Blessed and Glorious.”

“Call me Cirice, Thomas.” Cirice smiled, squeezing your hand. “I don’t think we need to stand on formality, after everything.”

“Cirice.” Thomas nodded, beaming broadly. “May I introduce my fiancee? Ellie, Mistress of the Eighteenth Hexagonal Intersect… That’s what the Enochians call it, right love?”

“Y-yeh.” Ellie swallowed, her eyes widening as Cirice released your hand, crossing to the mage and embracing her warmly.

“May the Holy Mother bless you both with Love, and Love more abundantly.” Cirice intoned, kissing the mage on the cheek.

“Y-your energy… I… I know you…” Ellie breathed “…I dreamed about you… you showed Tomtom to me!”

“Don’t give away secrets now.” Cirice giggled, placing a delicate finger on the human’s lips before returning to your side.

“Tomtom?” Thomas groaned pleadingly.

“I knew it!” You crowed exultantly “I KNEW you had something to do with them!”

“A girl needs her pasttimes.” Cirice sniffed primly.

“Being married to you is going to be something else…” You laughed helplessly, before realizing what had just come out of your mouth.

“What?” Thomas gasped incredulously, staggering slightly.

“You… you told them…” Cirice gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

“He’s marrying an angel… Of course he is… Why in the name of Tyris’s luminescant scrotum would I ever have normal in-laws?” Ellie lamented to herself, wandering aimlessly towards the fire, Robbo putting a comforting arm about his overwhelmed sister, desperately trying to stop himself from bursting into laughter again.

“You’re marrying Deniel.” Thomas clarified, holding out a hand and rubbing his temples with the other.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, only after the Pilgrimage is complete!” You protest desperately, before turning to Cirice “I’m sorry love, I wasn’t even think…urk!” You choked as the Cupid threw herself into your arms.

>>391288

“I don’t know why…” Cirice whimpered happily as she showered your face in kisses “…But I was so afraid you’d keep it secret.”

“Well I mean I didn’t want to force things…” You blustered. “…I mean you might…”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘Change your mind’, Deniel…” Cirice glowered, pointing a threatening finger up at you. “…I shall be very cross.”

“I plead the peace of Tyris.” You intoned, raising your hands into the Sign of the Sunburst.

“Smart.” Cirice sniffed, before bursting into a grin, kissing you again.

“I pray for a swift revelation then, my brother.” Thomas chuckled, clapping you on the back and after a moment’s hesitation, squeezing the Cupid’s shoulder warmly.

Cirice left your arms, embracing a suddenly shocked Thomas. “I never had a brother before.”

“Well… don’t think we’re all as debonair as me…” Thomas mused, his arms hesitantly returning the Cupid’s embrace.

“Fucks sake, if we’re quite done…” Robbo chided mockingly “…Breakfast is gonna get fuckin’ cold!”

“You’re as romantic as a dishmop sometimes.” Gilly chided, the Dingo having approached unheard, clipping her husband across the back of the head with a paw. Noticing the Angel, she inclined her head, barking a harsh, guttural phrase, one that Cirice returned without hesitation.

“Ow…” Robbo grunted. “…Thought you were in a rush?”

“Not that much of a rush…” Gilly mused. “…and I thought you said breakfast was getting cold? Stop complaining and serve up.”

>>391289

“Alright, are we ready?” Ellie asked, looking at you and Thomas in turn.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You nodded, Thomas murmuring agreement as he closed his eyes.

“Right. Counting back from five. Five…” Ellie began.

Sahnate

“Four”

Pora

“Three”

Reitia Dei

“Two”

In Excelsius

“One”

“HOLQ A NOFAHON DE EN ZIMZ OD COMMEMAHE ELASA COMMAH” You intoned together, the image of the rippling field which gave Sea-of-Grasses its name etched within your mind like diamond. You felt the magic pouring from you, astonished at the beauty of the triune weave as it plucked reality apart, the portal spreading… shuddering… HOLDING!

“Ammit’s Thighs…” Ellie declared in amazement. “…We actually fuckin’ did it!”

“Move you scaly shits!” Robbo swore, lashing cruelly at the beasts, which stubbornly refused, hissing and snapping at the air in front of them, rolling serpentine eyes in abject terror of the smoking hole in reality.

“Dammit.” The Australian growled, clambering forward along the traces, heedless of his own safety. “Youse didn’t see shit.”

“What’s he…” Thomas murmured, before Robbo planted a hand on the side of each beast’s skull, his eyes rolling back in his head as the beasts calmed, moving implacably forward as if the portal didn’t exist at all.

“What is…” You began, before Cirice grabbed you by the back of your tunic, hoisting you with astonishing strength into the wagon where she sat with Gilly.

“Portal now, love.” Cirice remarked, kissing you on the nose. “Questions later.”

<You have learned the NEUTRAL magic: Portal - Teleport yourself to a known location. This will expend your magic for the day and you cannot yet carry anyone else with you.

“I still think you’re making a big deal out of nothing.” Ellie quipped, waving her hand dismissively.

“Yer fuckin’ portal cut off me tailgate!” Robbo lamented, pointing at the rear of his wagon, it’s trailing edge sliced off as neatly as if a giant razor had been drawn across its length. “This old girl’s been with me since Toowoomba and you bloody mages have just vandalized her!”

“On the subject of ‘Bloody Mages’…” Thomas began. “…The Bungarra. What was that?”

“I told you…”

“Yuh huh…” Thomas drawled. “…We didn’t see shit. Problem is, Reitians are absolutely terrible at lying.”

“None of yer fuckin’ business.” Robbo growled, limping up to glare at the adept. “And if you push it, brother-in-law or no, I’ll fuckin’ job ya.”

“It’s how our parents’ magic manifested in him.” Ellie explained without hesitation. “And don’t threaten the fiancee, big brother, or I’ll set yer fuckin’ trousers on fire.”

“Yer a vile bitch.” Robbo swore, turning on his sister. “Why doncha just tell every cunt from here to Fort Caladon?”

“Dry off.” Ellie spat. “Why the fuck you’re ashamed of it I’ll never fuckin’ understand. Yer a Beastmaster. Own it.”

“Beastmaster…” You echoed. “…So… what… you can dominate animals?”

“Yeh… I know, it’s…” Robbo grunted in self-loathing.

“AWESOME!” You crowed in amazement. “And to do it so instinctively, so effortlessly!”

“Sink yer thoughts into one of those walking sewers…” Robbo retorted, pointing at the Bungarra who fought over the skeletal remains of some long-dead animal. “…and see if y’still think the same.”

“If you’re all quite finished…” A new voice intruded, a middle-aged human in unassuming townsman’s garb standing before them, a squadron of spear-wielding bee-girls surrounding him. “…I’ll know your business in Sea-of-Grasses.”

“Disciple Andrew…” Thomas laughed, walking fearlessly towards the man. “…Surely your memory’s not that bad.”

“Thomas…” The man groaned, rolling his eyes. “…can’t you at least pretend to be intimidated? I never get to threaten anyone these days.”

Thomas recoiled in mock horror, overacting terribly as he cowered from the bees. “Feel better?”

“Not a bit.” Andrew sighed, approaching the party and embracing both Thomas and yourself in greeting. “It’s good to see you both.”

“You too.” You smiled, before turning to the bees. “And you, Mellisarae.”

“Deniel..” The bees echoed in chorus.

“…It has been…”

“..such a short time…”

“…surely you have not…”

“…Finished your pilgrimage…”

“…So soon?”

“Not I.” You shook your head. “But I beseech you to recognise my brother. He is Adept… and he would be married.”

“Disciple…”

“…does Deniel…”

“…Speak the Truth?” The bees hummed queryingly, looking as one at Andrew.

Andrew’s brow furrowed, and he put his finger against Thomas’s forehead, his eyes going distant for a moment. “He does. And dammit if he hasn’t picked up some interesting things.”

“Wait, it’s that simple?” Ellie gasped in surprise. “That kind of insight shouldn’t be possible before…”

“The Prime Decahedron.” Andrew interjected. “As Enochians measure it anyway.”

“But that’s centuries of study!” Ellie objected shrilly “And you’re only… what… forty?”

“Technically I’m over ten thousand years old…” The Disciple quipped “…Though The Holy Mother did shorten the trip somewhat.”

“Disciple…” Thomas pleaded, trying to hold back laughter. “…Don’t tease my fiancee.”

Andrew grinned boyishly at the adept. “Old habits die hard. Come, let’s see the bride properly attired.”

“S-so quickly?” Ellie gasped, her eyes widening in shock.

“Did you have something else to do, love?” Thomas asked warmly, taking the mage’s hand in his.

“No… just… I wasn’t expecting…” Ellie stammered.

“We like to get the formalities out of the way, and let the happy couple linger in more… pleasant pasttimes.” Andrew drawled, a hint of lechery in his voice.

“Andrew!” The bees hummed chidingly

“There’s no need…”

“…to be coarse!”

“Come…” Andrew laughed, beckoning you all forward. “…Be welcome to the Holy Temple of Reitia, and Hive Sea-Of-Grasses.”

“Pilgrim!” One of the wide-eyed teenagers insisted “You can tell us!”

“Yeah!” Another agreed, the white-robed youth sidling forward.

“Honestly there’s nothing much to tell. I haven’t even left the Westerlands yet!” You objected, forcing levity into your voice. Cirice had quickly vanished after exiting the portal and your heart ached with her absence.

“I heard they tried to skin him in Charlestown and The Caladonian saved him!”

“No! I heard he hunted dark mages with a pack of wolves!”

“Please…” You snickered, leaning back against the simple cot upon which you sat. “…Keep going, this is way more interesting than reality.”

“Deniel?” Thomas’s voice intruded, the adept’s head peeking into the communal dormatory the Acolytes shared. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

“Of course, Honoured Adept.” You responded, making sure to stress the formality. Standing, you put your hand over your breast, inclining your head to your fellow Acolytes. “Reita Grace you all.”

“Reitia Grace you, Pilgrim!” The other Acolytes responded in the sing-song of ritual. Smiling warmly, you followed Thomas out of the chamber.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Thomas explained with a conspiratorial grin. “I just thought you’d want to get clear of the kids.”

“They’re enthusiastic.” You agreed “Though I can’t say I was any different.”

“Yeah well…” Thomas chuckled, clapping you on the back. “…Although I won’t deny my motives were purely altruistic. Ellie’s been ensconced with a positive swarm of arachne and they threatened me with all kinds of horrible things if I saw her in her dress before it was finished.”

“Spiders…” You sighed, shaking your head.

“You said it.” Thomas agreed.

“Listen, Thomas…” You began. “…I never got a chance to tell you. About why I’ve been a little off since Atlantea, I mean.”

Thomas nodded. “I figured you’d tell me in your own time.”

“I’m remembering things about my childhood… My parents… to say they were bad people would be a disservice. They were Dark Mages, foul ones, and I was worried about what that meant for me.”

“Deniel if I hadn’t seen you threaten that sailor back on the promenade I would have sworn to every Waylander between here and Dixon that you were incapable of swatting a fly.” Thomas smiled, embracing you roughly about the shoulders. “Whatever they were, you’re a good man. And I’m honoured to call you my friend and brother.”

“Will you tell Ellie?”

“Not if you’d prefer I didn’t.”

You pondered that for a minute. “No… I wouldn’t want to be the cause of secrets between you two, especially not so early in your marriage.”

“See?” Thomas declared, waving his hand to emphasise the point. “You’d give your jacket to a stabled Centaur to keep the chill from her girlish shoulders, wouldn’t you?”

“Who told you about Rose?” You demanded in surprise.

“What, you actually did?!” Thomas laughed incredulously “Reitia’s Mercy, at least finish your pilgrimage before you go vying for saint…”

“There you are!” A booming voice declared, six disciples bearing down on you purposefully.

“Disciples…” You began desperately “…I don’t know what you heard but…”

“I heard the Bride’s ensconced with Arachne.” One disciple drawled.

“Yeah, and they’ll pamper her for at LEAST another day.”

The unmistakeable baritone chuckle of Disciple Travis resonated through the amber-walled hallway in which you stood. “Which means, lads, that you’re free to participate in an ancient and sacred tradition.”

“Tradition?” Thomas echoed. “It’s too early for the baths.”

“Oh no… Far more ancient than the groom’s ablution.” Andrew corrected.

“Aye…” A red-headed disciple agreed. “…Ten Eons more ancient.”

“What is it?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“We, lads…” Travis grinned eagerly “…are gonna get STINKING drunk.”

>Oh no… this is a terrible idea

>Drinking with Archmage equivilants… could con some magic tricks out of them if we keep our heads.

>WOO! BUCKS NIGHT! LET’S GET LOOSE MOTHERFUCKERS! TITTYBAR HO!

>Invite Robbo along, see if he can’t show the disciples up

>Exclude the Australian, he’ll probably end up killing someone

>Insist Thomas go, but stay in the Temple, we’ve got some questions for the Mellisarae Hive-Queen.

>Something Else?

>>391293

BACHELOR PARTY!no titty bar though just a few guys getting drunk and having a good time

>>391293

Arright lads, let's get shitfaced.

Invite Robbo too.

>>391293

It's time to get wasted

>>391293

>Invite Robbo along, see if he can’t show the disciples up

It's time to get tore up.

>>391293

one vote for three sheets to the wind with Robbo being dragged along

>>391293

1-4

This will be a fucking wild night.

Drink the royal honey that someone somehow manages to have stashed away for such an event.

>>391293

Get drunk, bring Robbo.

>STAG NIGHT FUCKERS!

>Bring Robbo

“Disciples…” Thomas began hesitantly “…Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Travis paused, turning with a broad grin on his face. “It’s gotta be tested, brother Adept.”

“With all of us?” You add, looking cautiously at the kegs of mead spread throughout the candlelit depths of the hive.

“Reality is objective.” Andrew replied in faux-sonorousness. “Surely we must verify the conclusions of our brothers. After all, they could simply be insane.”

“Stop that.” A slender, beakish disciple shuddered. “I’m not so far removed from those days that I want to be reminded of it.”

“Sorry John.” Travis apologised quickly, clapping his brother disciple upon the shoulder. “But rest easy, the Holy Mother found us in the end, didn’t she?”

“We-a drinking or what? Santa Reitia…” an olive-skinned, mustachioed disciple lamented impatiently.

“Orright Guillaume, ye ding bastard.” the redhead drawled in a curious brogue, coshing in the lid of one of the casks with a fist enveloped in crackling power. “Now which one o’ye fuckers brought the mugs?”

“We really should have invited Robbo.” Thomas chuckled helplessly.

“Sacramental Mead, Thomas?” Travis declared incredulously. “Even I’m not so libertine to let the unanointed have at this.”

Earthenware mugs were dipped into the cask and passed around, and the Disciples stood in a rough circle, jostling you and Thomas amongst their number.

“Brethren…” Travis began “…Let us invite the beloved to share with us in the goblet of fraternal affection. In the name of She who is All-Mother of Creation, the Wellspring of Goofness and Mercy.”

“Sahnate, Pora, Reitia Dei in Excelsius.” The disciples intoned.

“Sahnate, Pora…” You replied, raising your mug in turn. “…Reitia Dei in Excelsius.”

As one, you drained the mugs, the tart sweetness of the mead spilling down your throat and filling you with warmth.

>>391666

“D’we really need THAT many toasts though?” You slurred, stumbling alongside Thomas as you and the disciples staggered towards the inn.

“S’tradition!” the redhead declared with a cheeky grin.

“They came down from Meekatharra in a clapped out four-train cart…” A voice sang absently in the unmistakable twang of The Australs.

“Robbo!” Thomas declared, recognizing the voice. .”leave those terrible lizards alone and come with us!”

“Thomas?” The Australian remarked in surprise, sticking his head and torso out of the stables. “What the buggering hell…”

“Is that a fuckin’ Aussie I hear?!” Travis yelled excitedly.

“Soon to be my brother in law. I mentioned him earlier, remember?”

“Well hell…” Travis exclaimed. “…Never met an Australian who didn’t enjoy a good drink. Goodman!”

“My Lord Baron.” You corrected tipsily.

“Really?” Travis blinked owlishly at you. “Well stone the fuckin’ crows…”

“Is that the burbling laments of some poor sod from New Botany?” Robbo demanded, limping his way towards you and the disciples.

“Disciples, may I present the rightful Baron of House Toowoomba…” You began, trying to act as sober as you could.

“Toowoomba?!” Travis echoed delightedly. “Well now I know he’s a maroon’s supporter he’s GOT to come with us!”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about mate…” Robbo declared, shaking his head with a helpless chuckle. “…But that’s the sound of a countryman if ever I heard it.”

“The Disciples insisted on what they’re calling a ‘Buck’s Night.” Thomas explained. “We’re going to get drunk.”

“Now see…” Robbo sighed beatifically, grasping the disciple firmly by the hand and shaking eagerly. “…I knew there had to be someone here with a sense of culture.”

>>391667

“Izzat the wife?” Robbo slurred, pointing at the Jackal-eared form of an Anubis stalking away, her face like a thundercloud.

“Yeh.” Travis snickered. “I’m gonna be in the shit tomorrow.”

“Why do it then?” Thomas asked, absently drinking from the foaming tankard in front of him.

“One, she’s fuckin’ adorable when she’s mad.” Travis declared, holding up an unsteady finger. “Two, she’s gotta have something to worry about.”

“I don’t get it.” You frowned. “I mean I don’t ever wanna get Cirice mad at me…”

“Got yerself caught already?!” Travis laughed, clapping you on the back. “Keep it for after the pilgrimage, yeh?”

“She’s a good Reitia-fearing woman.” You declared imperiously, deciding through the haze of alcohol that vagueness would be your friend here. “And we love each other enough to wait.”

“Lucky bastard…” the redhead snickered. “…Me, I never met a mamono who could keep it in her pants fer more than three seconds.”

“You’re jus’ picky, Padraig.” Andrew declared, pointing accusingly with his tankard.

“Th’Holy Mother found Dalila fer that fat bastard…” Padraig retorted, pointing at Travis. “…And ye with the birdy, Andrew…”

“Are you talking shit about the wife?” Andrew demanded, his umbrage building.

“Siddown.” Robbo snarled, seizing the disciple by the shoulder and driving him back into his seat, scarcely concerned with his own safety. “I get what the Eirelander’s on about.”

“Begorrah…” Padraig gasped incredulously, staring at the Australian. “…ye even pronounced it right!”

“Th’men of the Fae Isle understand what it is to have to search for love.” Robbo continued “Just as we of th’Australs know.”

“Fookin’ Australians…” Padraig grumbled, dashing moistness from his eyes.

“Isn’t it funny…” Disciple John remarked absently, tracing the condensation off the sides of his tankard with a bony finger.. “…Ten thousand years ago we’d be at a titty bar…”

“What’s that?” Thomas queried, staring at his empty tankard in puzzlement. “And who drank all my beer?”

“Used to be humans’d pay to go watch very scantily clad women swing around poles.” Travis chuckled, signalling to one of the staff to bring more drinks. “How good is it to know we’ve got better than anything we stuffed a note into the gee-banger of waiting at home?”

A murmur of general affirmation answered him, and the big man smoothed his greying beard, raising his tankard to the tavern at large. “To Loving Wives!” He roared. “And Faithful Husbands!”