/builders/ - Hero and Nation Builders!

Rolled 81, 82 = 163 (2d100)

>>22011

>Name:Vivian Nation

>Fluff: Vivian was alone crying in the rubble. The mercenaries hired to destroy the castle decided that grabbing a baby girl to "use" once she grows up seemed like a sound idea. That was until they realized that they had spent so much time and effort taking care of this girl, that they couldn't rape her. By the time she was 18 she was already fighting like the best of them. When one of the men finally got pissed at her one day and told her how they all raped and killed most of her family, torched her home, and even stole her fathers sword, she took it quiet well. She ripped out the throat of the one who told her, took the sword off of his corpse, and told the others she was going to need some "alone time", but considering her personality that was very rational.

>Inventory:+ Father's Sword

>+ Plain Clothes (Female) [Wearing]

>+ Plain Clothes (Male)

>Money: 42 Copper

>Skills:

>+ Swordfighting (50)

>+ Survival (50)

>Flaws:+ [Hard Goodbye] You are not exactly on good terms with your old mercenary band and word travels fast. This may be trouble in the long run.

>Bonus:

>+ [Tough Girl] You're a tough girl, you've spent your life on the road and don't mind eating moldy food from time to time. Though you do still have some bonding issues this will assist you further in combat and survival.

>Skills:+ Drinking (4)

>+ Intimidate (4)

>+ Hand to Hand (20)

>+ Girl Talk (5)

>+ Being a douche (5)

>Drinking (10)

>+ Eavesdropping (1)

>+ Butterfacing (10)

>+ Dodge (1)

>Job:

>+ Warehouse Guardian (+ 6 Copper / Turn)

1:"AYY BARKEEP, GET ME AND THE CUNT ON THE GROUND A BEER! MY TREAT"

2:After spending the rest of the night celebrating Vivian stumbles her way to the "new family manor" drunk, covered in blood, and happier then she has been in years.

Name: Aethelric Nation

Fluff: After the Uhlmannen burned Nation castle and destroyed the livelihood of the noble family, Aethelric (Once a veritable social butterfly) became more withdrawn, sometimes disappearing from the group for long periods of time before returning, sometimes with new trinkets, and sometimes with whiskey on his breath. He has a weakness for alcohol, which causes problems at times. It’s generally a good idea to keep him away from bars. However, when consulted, he always seems to know the best vintages and batches from wineries and breweries across the land. So that’s a plus. Unfortunately, they’re almost all insanely expensive. So that’s a minus. He used to be proud of the noble blood that ran in his veins, but now it means little more to him than the clothes on his back, serving as a painful reminder of easier, happier times.

>Inventory:

+ 2x Finecraft Family Dagger

+ 5 Loaves of Bread

+ 7 Copper

+ 1 Almost full bottle of Whiskey

+ Document of Banking (19 Silver - The Juhs)

>Skills:

+ Daggering (25)

+ Disguise (50)

+ Drinking (27)

+ Sneaking (28)

+Stealing (2)

+ Alcohol Knowledge (25)

>Flaws:

+ [Alcoholic] You can hardly go without alcohol for more than a few hours before you start to get nervous. Longer periods of time without alcohol can grow into serious sickness, as well as concentration issues, vomiting, shivers etc.

>Bonuses:

+ [Second Liver] You have been drinking so much your tolerance has grown to incredible levels. While certainly this would not be healthy for any other human being you can easily outdrink most and will suffer much less from alcohol and some other sorts of poisoning.

+ [Poor Sod] People just naturally tend to feel sorry for you. This can come with some advantages if you don't mind being pitied a lot.

1. (Since Ash left, I'll probably give up my quest for him.) 'Well, this whole thing has been one weird, rambling, slightly boring adventure.', Aethelric thinks to himself. 'Perhaps I'll look at the board again, see if anything's changed.'

2. I really need this paper protected, and since I've got better things to do than pay for a scroll case, I could break into one of the less heavily guarded libraries and lift a case from there. Who knows, maybe the scroll within has something interesting in it.

Rolled 50, 51 = 101 (2d100)

>>22022

Those were the most beautiful rolls I've ever made.

Rolled 96, 47 = 143 (2d100)

>>22011

Name: Sigurd Nation

Fluff: Sigurd is the oldest surviving member of the once-grand Nation family, father to many of it's strongest children and at one point a greatly-respected man for his rational judgement and skill at arms - and he had it all taken away in an instant. Few of his children still breathe, his house lies in financial and popular ruin and one of his eyes was burned to uselessness, making even combat difficult for the aging man. His brothers and sisters all lie missing or dead as well, and taking care of their children and re-assembling the great house of Nation from it's ashes has fallen onto his shoulders. Perhaps the most shameful thing to him was the loss of his grand blade and armor, things he desperately seeks back.

>Inventory:

+ Ancestor's Pendant

+ Fancy Clothes

+ Fancy Hat

+ 10 Silver

+ Noble Iron Sword

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (67)

+ Leadership (28)

+ Searching (2)

+ Luck (1)

+ Sneaking (3)

+ Charisma (5)

+ Searching (10)

+ Faith (4)

+ Running (4)

>Holdings:

+ House in Nice Part of Town (2 rooms) - Owned

>Job:

+ Charles Whitecity - Swordtrainer (3 Silver / Turn)

>Flaws:

+ [Aging] You become older every year and slowly your skill at arms begins to degrade. The guilt and ridicule do nothing to improve the situation. It's only rubbing more salt into old wounds.

Post preference: As long as makes sense for fluff given.

1/2 I don't doubt it. In fact, searching for an escape route may just be absolutely vital around this point, as I wait for the whitecities to calm to petition them again. Finding a route outside the city in some form, and ensuring all members of the noble family of Nation have access to it, will be invaluable, as I will not allow us to suffer and burn again. And if the Whitecities refuse to heed my consul, this city will certainly be lost to the indefatigable hordes of the horsemen.

Rolled 34, 27 = 61 (2d100)

>>22011

>Name: Eric Nation

>Fluff: Eric is a tall and lanky young man, standing a full head's length above your average person. Not that you'd notice it. Ever since his birth He's just sort of blended into the background. People see him, they just don't recognize he's actually there. Many times in his life he's walked up to people in full view and nearly given the heart attacks by speaking to them. It's not something he does with intent, it's just that he's so unassuming and unimportant in most people's minds they don't recognize him being there. The fact he was also 7th born son to his father, along with his own nature of being beneath notice meant his schooling in matters politic and in arms was lacking. However when the invasion came he was handy enough with his Grandfather's dagger to surprise and kill several soldiers before ditching his clothes for peasants rags and blending into the horde of refuges fleeing the land.

>>Inventory

>+ Grandfather's Ornate Dagger (Sharpened)

>+ Grandfather's Dagger (No Ornament, Flawless Copy)

>+ Plain Clothes (in closet)

>+ Servants Clothing (wearing)

>+ 137 Copper

>+ Lilith's Iron Flower

>>Skills:

>+ Daggering (38)

>+ Noble Customs (62)

>+ Sneaking (40)

>+ Stealing (6)

>+ Running (55)

>+ Haggling (6)

>+ Climbing (3)

>>Flaws:

>+ [Forgettable] You were made to be forgotten. While guards will often forget your face and you can get lost in large crowds easily this is horrible for heroic speeches, begging or finding true love.

+ Enemy [Blueberry Tom]

>>Bonuses:

>+ [Unassuming] You are rarely accused of doing anything, largely because people don't care or expect you to have done anything. Also bonus to sneaking

>>Job

+ Servant(Spy) - Whitecastles (15 Copper / Turn)

>Patron Sir Alistair

>>Holdings:

+ House near Market (4 rooms) - Owned

>Updates:

+ Long

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

1-2. Oh look, I must away, quickly and quietly. Get away from these "gentlemen" and continue looking for more information.

+Sneaking 40

+Running 65

+Unassuming

Rolled 77, 77 = 154 (2d100)

>>22011

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 33 copper

+ 14 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (64)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (56)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (7)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (17)

+ Shield Tactics (7)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)

Flaws: + [Greedy] You have a hard time letting go of gold, people you have to pay do not appreciate this.

+ [Lustful +] You like a good tumble, this comes with some expertise in the area. Women find it hard to resist you however the feeling is mutual. Be careful not to hurt the ones you love.

Bonuses: [Wielder of the Dragon Fang] Your weapon is your father's blade. It is not magic, only a fool would believe that, but if handled right the blade dances almost as if alive, sneaking past scales of armor and cutting deep into enemy flesh. You've also never cut yourself on this one before.

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [Good Samarithan] You're a good guy and the ladies dig it.

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Update- Long

1. Keep up the shield tactics Tacitus wants done. Then give the men a break.

2. Then go follow this feeling to the church. These feelings never mean anything good.

On the way out Wikiver approaches >>22033

"Something is going down at the church, and it isn't good. I'm going to go check it out." then leaves.

>>22040

"Got it, just make sure your men have things to do while you're gone. Also, if you notice a peasant women by the name of Maria, please inform me."

>>22011

>>22009

Bartholomew regards the man, how interesting, he must be another refugee from the lands formerly under Nation family’s control, a pagan then. Bartholomew looks upon the man with pity, for how could he not? Before him is a man born and raised ignorant of gods light, taught ancient and crude rituals, taught by the devil long ago. Such a man is doomed to an unforgiving fate as the devils puppet until his ultimate death and condemnation to hell. Perhaps the Red Cloak, Andrew I believe is his name, is mistaken and the man has done nothing wrong, it wouldn’t hurt to find out.

Bartholomew shoots a level gaze upon the dark man, gauging him. “What say you in response to the accusation of a righteous man of God, pagan?” Bartholomew states the word pagan as a fact, rather than an insult. It is not the fault of the pagans that they are ignorant of the true way of God, usually. Bartholomew awaits a response.

>>22157

"I am a simple medicine man from my village, destroyed by horse barbarians, I have fled them. My old home is far away, where the sun is warm and the fields are rich with antelope and game and the wind carries no cold.

I hoped to might find a place here, in healing or fighting against the same horse barbarians. It was heard to me they now threaten this land. I had heard there was another such as I, from my lands, and that he had been employed, so I sought to find him and get employment also.

I have once before used the blood of animals to heal. As a cooked soup, with herbs and spices, to cure the body of evil spirits. But never once I used the blood of man, that is an evil. The blood of young is a greater evil more. I did not do this thing."

>>22198

Bartholomew considers the man’s words, the horse barbarians, damn them. So many forced from their homes or slaughtered. So much harm done, they will be made to pay for their sins. But, for now, Bartholomew must decide what to do. If this man was framed then it was done in such a way that even the Red Cloaks believe in his guilt, though, they are so zealous that it would not take much to convince them, then again, Bartholomew considers that perhaps it would not have taken much to convince himself had things been a bit different. Bartholomew also considers that this man could very well be lying to him right now, he takes a moment to consider this narrative and looks into the man’s eyes to judge him as he probes.

“So say you, but there are those who believe differently.” Bartholomew gestures to Andrew and the other Red Cloaks. “Have you any proof to your innocence or any who would speak on your behalf? Why should we trust in your word, pagan?”

>>22326

"I have proof about my whereabouts since my arrival, and the methods of my practice. I encountered and met a horse barbarian who challenged me to a duel, which I lost and harmed my leg. Then I took up work for an apothecaries assistant.

It was when I learned that the Turnhills had their own assistant from my homeland that I went to see him. If it is proof there is another like me, you can confirm with them that they too had a medecine man of black skin."

>>22626

Bartholomew considers the mans words and thinks on the situation. On one hand he could not condemn a clearly innocent man to what would appropriately be death for such foul practices, on the other he cannot allow this man to roam free without confirming his innocence, whats more Bartholomew's own work was yet to be done, he still had to prepare the city for the coming battles. In this case, it is best to first test the man.

Bartholomew speaks to the dark skinned man, "Don't move. I shall now judge you." Bartholomew moves to draw his scythe and place it upon the shoulder of the Pagan, the blade facing his neck." It was time to see if this pagan would submit to the authority of God and be judged for the accusations brought against him. If he allows Bartholomew to place the Scythe upon his shoulder and level with his neck then Bartholomew shall render his judgement, if not. Then his sentence will be decided.

>>22631

A blade upon the skin.

A test of courage? A rite of passage?

If this was judgement, so be it. I have done this once as a young man, I shall do it again as an older one.

>>22633

A tense moment passes and Bartholomews face is a mask of grim determination while the pagan remains stoic and unmoving, the Red Cloaks watch with rapt attention and after a time Bartholomew speaks.

"Pagan, through my heritage I know that a medicine man, while pagan and ignorant of God's light, is no devil worshiper. Not only that, but often they will know many ways to treat wounds and illnesses that allude the apothecaries. A profession that while vilified by others is quite needed in the city on the brink of war. So I shall grant you a single chance to prove yourself innocent." Bartholomew presses the Scythe into the pagans skin ever so slightly, not enough to draw blood but enough to get his next message across. "Should you be attempting to deceive me, pagan. Know that i will find you, and my scythe will claim your life." Bartholomew removes the scythe from the mans should and then asks. "What is your name, Pagan?"

>>22634

"I am Oo'ka B'aa, of the Ae'bweya, the Tall Men. I come from the lands where the sun watches over Gazelle, Lion and Elephant."

>>22639

“Well, Oo’ka B’aa of the Tall Men, I am Bartholomew Nation of house Nation. Now. “Bartholomew turns to the Red Cloak that brought the Pagan to him. “Andrew, you have brought this pagan to me so you are the only one I can trust with this." Bartholomew gestures to Oo’Ka. "Oversee this Pagan as he strives to prove himself, act in your best judgement to discern if he deceives us. If you find that he is, do as you judge appropriate. Take with you whoever you want and know that as you are responsible for this Pagan I am responsible for you." Bartholomew turns to Oo’ka. “I grant you this once chance to prove youself, do not attempt to escape from Andrew or deceive him. Move swiftly, lest his patience with you run thin. Bartholomew turns to Andrew and gives him a benevolent smile. "Go now, and in God's name. Bring the truth to light.”

Rolled 23, 25 = 48 (2d100)

Name: Oo'ka B'aa

Fluff: A medicine man from a place to the southeast, where the hot sun watches over the Gazelle, the Lion, and the Elephant.

When he arrived believe him to be a giant, and in a sense they are correct.

The people of his region had skin dark as the bark of blackwood, and were already taller than the "pale men". But tribe were known as the Ae'bweya, in their language "The Tall Men" for their great height, towering over their own kin. They lived in a "castle" of stone and mud baked by the sun, on a great mound built by their ancestors long ago.

Perhaps this explains why ever since his arrival the only men he could speak to without looking down were on horse, and why he must bend his back to navigate the short roofs of the cold grey stone of the pale men.

With the Uhlmannen came the end of the tribe, they tore down the catles of their ancestors, and those who survived fled, as he did. Over great distances he lead them, seeking to flee the "Horse barbarians" as far as the ends of the world. And that's where they seem to have ended up in. A strange land, with strange people and strange tongues, and the sky is bitter and cold, and the nights long.

All they have left of their former life is held in the hands of Oo'ka B'aa, their greatest artifact, a chieftans great club of strange black metal.

Believed it to be magic, it given to them by by the first man of their family many generations ago, and legended that he wrested from the Pharaoh of the lands of sand, who himself was gifted it by the gods, for through generations it neither rusts nor tarnishes.

>Inventory:

[Black Steel Club] - The Cock of Osiris

+ 4 Healing Herbs

+ Some Sticks

+ Several Reefs

+ 1 Dose of Sedative

+ Rock

>Skills:

+ Construction (50)

+ Medicine (100)

+ Searching (6)

+ Hunting (1)

+ Blow-Dart-Using (1)

+ Club Fighting (3)

+ Toughness (3)

+ Lucky (2)

+ Hand to Hand (3)

>Flaws:

+ [Exotic] You are a rare sight. The guards will recognize you easily and people try to go out of your way. The church may also not approve what they believe to be your heathenous ways. People are generally inclined to trust you less.

>Bonuses:

+ [Giant] You are two heads taller than a normal man. You are considerably stronger than them as well, granting you a bonus in all things physical. Except for hiding of course.

>Holdings:

+ [Hidden Healing Hut] Your own comfortable clay hut which has an aura of mystery to it. The air is heavy with pollen from healing herbs, which will keep you and anybody living here healthy from most diseases. it can also heal you after you have already contracted them. Injury recovery is naturally sped up.

+ Turmhill Healer (1 Silver / Turn)

Money: 12 Copper, 4 Silver

1-2. Go out and get proof of my innocence with Andrew.

This should be simple enough to prove that there are in fact, two men of dark skin from the south, and of my whereabouts.

I shall get witnessed testimony of where I was upon one day as I worked for an apothecary, and where this other man was on another day. I cannot be in two places at once after all.

Rolled 14, 65 = 79 (2d100)

1/2 - Excited by his new employment opportunities, Edmund throws himself into his training, practicing both swordsmanship and athletics exercises every morning in the courtyard. He even fashions a tiny helmet for Craven to wear out of an old buckler cap. Those Uhlmannen scum will be here soon, and Edmund will give those fowl cur a taste of Nation steel!

>>22011

Name: Edmund Nation

Fluff: Sir Edmund has hidden a terrible secret from his family. For years he has used the best makeup and disguises money could buy to hide his true nature. He wore concealing cloaks, practiced squawking in four different languages, and hid his 'skin condition' from view. You see, Edmund Nation is a bird. There is no bird more honorable and noble in all the world, however, and he defends his family name to the last, even if it means his secret is discovered.

You are a bird posing as a man. Well actually you are a man thinking he is a bird posing as a man. Even centuries from now they would not fully be able to understand your condition. Perhaps god had played a cruel joke on you, but ever since you can remember you've kept this secret from everyone else. Your greatest power, but possibly your achilles heel as well.

>Inventory:

+ Sigil of Flame

+ Crow (Craven)

+ Bird House (Crow-sized)

+ 25 copper

+ Iron Sword (Whitecastle)

+ Leather Armor (Whitecastle)

>Skills:

+ Haggling (4)

+ Housewifery (4)

+ Ungrateful (5)

+ Running (4)

+ Hand to Hand (8)

+ Intimidation (1)

+ Swordfighting (60)

+ Dueling (50)

+ Luck (8)

+ Mechanical Understanding (?) (16)

>Flaws:

+ [The Bird Issue] If somebody discovers your secret you are compelled to obey their commands in order for them not to reveal your terrible secret. This would not prevent you from killing them. Of course only if they specifically found out that you are a bird pretending to be human, not a human thinking he is a bird pretending to be human. The latter would be a ridiculous lie.

+ [Bird Talk] Sometimes you can't resist and just chirp along with the birds.

>Bonuses:

+ [The Phoenix Sigil] You are uncertain what it does, has to be some sort of riddle. Better be careful and don't destroy your family heirloom. Though if you could open it somehow, who knew what would be inside?

>Job:

+ Whitecastle Soldier ( 1 Silver / Turn)

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>>22017

Under the roaring cheers of the people you make your way out of the ring and towards the bar, pushing yourself through a colorful collection of people. Hands are reaching out, people touch you, for a change they don't try to grab your ass. You can feel their heavy hands on your shoulders, your head, hear the chants praising you, elevating you. Today you are the Queen of the pit.

The bar is filled to the brim with people, a small river of spilt ale is growing on the ground. Stools are absolutely impossible to come by and after a few minutes of searching you finally decide to fuck it and just drink your beer wherever. Pushing yourself inbetween two bulky men, yelling at the barkeeper to get you a fucking beer.

There are dozens of people yelling the same thing, but somehow the barkeeper manages to deliver within a few seconds, acting with almost inhuman speed and precision. Two glasses flying through the air, filled up, slammed down onto the counter and sent sliding your way. Surprisingly enough they make it without even a single drop spilling or some twat getting any funny ideas.

You take your beer and head for the Southlander. The referee is still taking a look at her a small bald man applying all sorts of bandages, making you think that perhaps a broken ego may not be the worst of her worries. Still she is not one to turn down a free beer and you sit there in joint silence for a bit, ass on the cellar dirt looking at the crowd, yelling, singing and dancing.

"Drinks are on the house.", a large musular man declares, his skin was filled with tatoos resembling what you assume are gang symbols. Your eye falls onto the tatoo of a lonely blueberry sticking out, then onto his oddly familiar bracelet. "We need more Juhs who can fight like that!". For a moment you consider teaching him a lesson for calling you a Juh, clearly you are an Easterner, but then again he did just offer you free drinks.

The evening grows later and the attendees funnier, you meet a lot of new faces, one odder than the last. At one point you are uncertain whether there is a taurus in the fighting pit, but really, how should a taurus get into the basement?

Later on more of the women you fought join you, they don't seem hostile at all, no hard feelings. People down here really are a lot more pleasant than up there. They know what's important in life.

When you finally stumble out of the tavern which is a front for the fighting pit you feel good about yourself, radiating warmth into the cold night around you. It takes you a solid hour to find the unassuming door which leads to your family's house, knocking a few times. At this point you probably wouldn't even mind sleeping outside, nothing could ruin this evening for you.

After a few moments of silence the door opens none the less and you stare into the sad old face of your father. What right did he have to claim authority over you after all these years he was not there for you? Still, he looks like he could really use a hug.

Almost falling over you give your father a hug and wake up several hours later in your bed.

>Skills:

+ Hand to Hand (5)

+ Drinking (10)

+ Relations - Fighting Pit (15)

>>27231

>>22022

Deciding it would be best to look for a different task than finding the man in question you end up at the tavern outside town once more. The people around were still as shady as before, though you couldn't help but feel that this place had seen better days.

As you skimmed over the board you found a bunch of interesting offers, the question was really: How far were you willing to go? After a bit of skimming through the various tasks that needed doing you came to the rather rapid concluison that the bottom of the board was the area even most people here decided to avoid. The tasks all the way down ranged from collecting the eyes of children and seeking willing human sacrifices to the targeted eradication of entire families you had never heard of for reasons you did not even want to think about.

Pretty much everything above that was at least somewhat fair game. Kidnappings, intimidation, extortion or simple retrieval and transport requests. One of them appealed to you in particular. Not because of the task itself but rather of the picture that was attached to it. The drawing of a pretty young woman with long dark hair and almond shaped eyes. According to the contract you were supposed to retrieve an amulet from her and though it did not explicitly mention the use of force the paper did not explicitly denounce it either.

Taking the picture, after all you didn't want anybody else to snatch this job from you, you made your way back towards town, spending a couple of hours aimlessly wandering the streets without thinking all too much about the task at hand, enjoying your liquor every now and again as you watched people pass by.

Finally as night had come you made your move. Naturally there were not many libraries in the city, books were an expensive commodity and only the rich were able to read anyway. The rich and people like you that was. Discarded nobility, blessed with the fortunes of good education yet cursed with the lives of peasantry.

The library you were aiming for belonged to the Whitecities, the people who ran the town that surrounded the castle. You didn't know much about them except the few words you overheard on the street when you were busy drinking all day. Useless firstborn son, ambitious and smart daughter, jealous wife and a burning hatred for the Whitecastles.

The door was locked, of course, however you were more than capable of handling this situation. Even though one would not suspect it with your noble heritage, you had managed your fair share of burglaries in the past and this was no different. Following a sudden instinct you located a balcony door that in fact unlocked.

As you slipped inside the silent darkness of the old building you couldn't help but think that people did not pay the security of libraries the attention it deserved, after all these books could be worth a fortune in the right hands. Then again buyers would no doubt become suspicious if somebody who couldn't even read tried to sell them a book.. you on the other hand.. but no. You were no thief, or well at least not that kind. You were here for a scroll casing and that was it! .. at least for now.

As you passed through the various corridors you utilized the moonlight shining in from the windows to light your path, trying to make out scroll casings in the all encompassing darkness. It took you a few attempts of blind searching until you had finally managed to locate a scroll casing, sitting down near one of the windows to get a better look at its contents, which turned out to be a bill of ownership concerning a dozen pigs. While a disappointment for sure the document was roughly two years old, which meant that there was actually a chance that the pigs in question were still alive. Just for reasons you pocketed the bill of ownership as well.

A faint crackling noise gained your attention and you moved away from the window and into the dark shadow of the corridors with two swift but silent steps. Remaining absolutely still you listened into the darkness. A minute passed, before another sound emerged. What was that? Stepping as silently as you could you slowly moved towards the sound using the bookshelves as cover. Cautiously you peeked around the corner.

Not far ahead was a person, a girl no doubt, lying in the corridor between two large bookshelves. The moonlight was only barely lighting up her figure, her lower torso and legs were wrapped in a blanket, her hair long and dark blonde. Making out some features of her face you were at least able to tell that she was not the woman on the poster. "Hello?!", you could hear her ask in a shouted whisper, immediately you retreated into your cover behind the shelf.

>Inventory:

+ Scroll Case

+ Bill of Ownership - 12 Pigs (Whitecities)

>Skills:

+ Sneaking (5)

>>27232

>>22027

The moment you had come up with the idea for an escape route you had already been certain that it would have to be an underground one. Trying to escape on the surface would make for far too many uncertain factors, having to push directly through the invading horde would prove practically impossible and could only be achieved if a great many factors came together acting in your favor. No, an underground escape was the way to go unless somebody suddenly managed to magically enable you all to fly away. A ridiculous notion.

Your best chance would be trying to exploit any form of sewage systems or underground catacombs, information that would only be stored within one of the cities libraries, the two you knew of being the one the Whitecastles owned and the one that belonged to the Whitecities. For the task at hand you decided that the Whitecity library would be of more importance to you, after all you would be trying to escape from within the city boundaries.

As you approached the old building that was the library you were stopped at the gates, the guards demanding to know both your name and purpose of visit, obviously they would not just allow anybody inside who had no explicit permission, then again there were only two of them for the entire building which spanned accross at least two levels, not accounting for any basement levels that could have been part of the construction.

It proved rather easy to convince the guards of your right to access the library, you did carry a sigil of rights granted to you by your employer and after the short elaboration that you needed access to the library in order to obtain some information required for teaching your ward they let you inside.

Surprisingly enough the library was well lit, numerous candles and chandeliers were in use and you noticed at least five servants hurrying about making sure everything was in order. You had no idea how often the Whitecities actually accessed this library, still it seemed like a waste of resources that only managed to further your impression of them as a needlessly affluent house.

You stopped one of the servants, ordering her to take you towards the section regarding old city plans, as well as underground constructions within the city. She was pretty by most standards, with long dark hair and almond shaped eyes, however this did not make up for the fact that she had no idea where she was trying to lead you, growing slightly more nervous by the second. With a sigh you relieved her of her assistance and told her to go about her other tasks, an order she immediately followed with a thankful sigh and a bow.

Left on your own to find the reports you were looking for you spent several hours searching through the seemingly endless corridors until you finally came upon an incredibly old book describing the many catacombs and sewage systems introduced even before the reign of Karl and Thomas White who would go on to split the White family in two. Content with your find and unwilling to continue your search you had found yourself on the second floor. Following an instinct you unlocked the door that led onto one of the balconies stepping outside. Really the look wasn't nearly as good as you had expected it to be, then again you weren't all too sure what you had expected in the first place. A little confused you went back inside, closing the door behind you and returning home, now with the book in your possession.

Placing the book on the table you started reading. Apparently the author had been tasked with cartographing all of the local catacombs in order to ensure that the newly constructed sewage systems would not collide with it. Working through the book you lost track of time as you skipped through endless pages of descriptions and maps of underground tunnels. The system that extended beneath the city was far more complex than you had initially assumed. Entire city populations could have been swallowed in the neverending labyrinth. However the most important part for you would be discovering which of these tunnels were still accessible. According to the book a few sewage tunnels existed that could allow you and your kin to escape to a nearby river, however there were numerous mentions of instability and erosion, how many and which ones of them were still intact remained to be seen.

[1/2]

>>27233

A knock on the door. Failing to find anything to toss into the book before closing it you left it open as you moved towards the entrance, one hand already at your waist, where a most expertly crafted iron sword was placed. Whoever dared disturb you in the middle of the night better have a damn good reason for it. As you opened the door you stared into Vivian's muddied and bloodied face, a serene smile on her face she was looking right through you, her body radiating warmth.

For a few seconds you just stood there and looked at each other a funny sight for anyone who would have been watching. Without a warning Vivian launched forward, throwing her arms around you and grasping you tightly in a sloppy hug. For a few moments more you remained in the somewhat awkward pose until her body began to loosen up sliding downwards. Quickly you picked her up before she could fall over, having fallen asleep in your arms.

Calmly you carried her over to her bed, she hadn't slept in it once though you considered yourself lucky that she had ended up with you in the end. Grabbing some water you cleaned her hands and face, quickly drying them off before tucking her in. You had never spent much time with your children, duty had demanded you be elsewhere and tradition had made it your wife's task to look after them. Times had changed, she wasn't around anymore and evidently you were not the only one that bore the scars.

>Inventory:

+ Great Book of Catacombs and Sewagery (and knowledge)

>Skills:

+ Charisma (5)

+ Searching (3)

>>27234

>>22033

No matter how well you led your men in battle eventually you would come into situations in which you would have to defend yourself and your family not only with your mind but with your sword as well. Luckily you were surrounded by other trained swordsmen an excellent condition to enhance your own abilities.

The training was a lot more exhausting than you had expected it to be. Perhaps it had been the many things on your mind that were weighing in heavy on your sword arm or perhaps you simply had been out of training for too long, either way you soon laid down your sword to rest. Today had been a day of many lessons, one of them that continuing to train yourself was something you could no longer put off if you wanted to be prepared for the inevitable Uhlmannen charge.

Breathing heavily you looked over your men. You had handled yourself well enough not to loose any of their respect, you were no random peasant boy after all, still your performance had not been overwhelming either. In silence you looked after your (insertfamilyrelation) Wikiver as he went on his way to the church. He was an experienced swordsman by most standards and you had no doubt that he could hold his own against multiple attackers at once. Perhaps he could teach you a thing or two if you asked him to.

No matter whether you actually required the training or not you were a busy man and a damn good officer at that. Training and shields could only get you so far and stray arrows were known to have put a sudden end to more than one legacy. Surely your men would thank you for every additional piece of armor you would be able to provide them with.

While initially in good spirits after the third blacksmith turned you away the feeling began to arise that you really were in a city under siege. Of course there was no definite proof of any Uhlmannen ambition to actually siege your city and they had mostly razed villages and churches leaving countless cities untouched in the process, however you knew full well that the Barbarian mind did not work in the same way as yours.

After various attempts you had finally come to the conclusion that blacksmiths were more than occupied with the many orders they had received from the various factions of the city and that they would probably continue to work day and night in order to accommodate for the many needs of the city's defense. Perhaps there was some other way to obtain what you were searching for?

>Skills:

+ Swordfightings (3)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (1)

>>27235

>>22034

You excuse yourself and vanish into the masses of people. Of course there would be people looking for you now, but if all of them were idiots like this you would have absolutely no problem. Then again if your family really planned on staying in this city things would be more complicated. If you actually intended to get serious with Lilith you would have to get a house, having a house meant being stationary, vulnerable and perhaps even becoming known to your neighbors. From there on out it was only a question of time until some thug would remember.

Then again Lilith was merely a commoner, hardly a proper fit for you. If your family was going to regain its position people would be sure to look down upon you no doubt. You were uncertain if your own family would approve of the marriage either. Still life in the dirt had given you freedoms many nobles never have had and in the end the decision to marry whomever you wanted to was yours. If you were ready to live with the consequences that was.

But who was talking about marrying anyway? You still had a long way to go. Taking another turn you got onto one of the main streets. It was framed by beggars sitting on the sides asking for money and food. Certainly life in the city wasn't pleasant as of now. The farmers seeking refuge were filling the city and the church had only been able to supply so many of them. Of course the situation wouldn't improve once the Uhlmannen would lay siege to the city.

Of course nobody could say for certain what they were going to do, but you just had it in your blood. You could tell they were coming, just by the dark clouds on the horizon. Actually now that you looked at those again they really didn't look at the rain clouds. Nervously you looked around but it was far too far away to be within the city. Perhaps it was a bonfire of sorts?

>Skills:

+ Running (1)

+ Sneaking (1)

>>22040

You order your man to give it another try. The shield tactics were the best you had ever seen, then again this was the first time you were actually excercising any at all. Surely it would help to find somebody who had actually partaken in one of these formations before but then again you had never heard of them either. Perhaps Tacticus had made them up? He had always bragged about his aptitude in all things military.

It took you a number of attempts but the men started to improve further. You could never be too sure what you were actually looking for but every now and again you managed to catch someone slipping up. They would be sure to realize their mistakes when in actual battle, however they would hardly have time to learn when every misstep could cost them their life.

You looked up to the sun which had already travelled half way accross the sky. Perhaps you had spent a little too much time training? Following instinct you decided not to ascend the stairs to the church, but to head towards the markets instead. As usual you could not tell why but somehow it was merely the right thing to do.

As you had reached your destination you were looking onto an apothecary who was being dragged away by the guards, shouting that "he was innocent" and "being set up". But it wasn't the man yelling that caught your attention. Not far away a surprisingly tall man with black skin was standing next to what looked like a priest in a red robe staring onto the scenery. Both looked displeased as events unfolded, however the black man was perhaps more.. concerned? It was hard to make out but either way you couldn't shake a familiar feeling.

>Skills:

+ Shield Tactics (5)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (3)

>>27236

>>22332

"I really shouldn't be this suspicious.", you thought to yourself, "Von Pissen surely only wants my best and this whole demon stuff is nonsense anyway. I should just put down the book and go do something useful instead.". You were about to let go of the book when you stopped. Surely those couldn't have been your thoughts.

"Of course they are my thoughts. Whom else would I be talking to in here?", you scolded yourself. Were you really trying to discourage yourself or was this someone else at work, "Now just listen to yourself. You are acting like there was any way somebody was in here talking to you, using your own voice. There is absolutely no way. But fine, be like that. Make a fool out of yourself in front of.. well only yourself really.".

Rubbing over your a little sweaty face you put down the book and opened it. You couldn't get distracted, OR DISTRACT YOURSELF anymore. Quickly you skimmed through the pages, one after another. This circle looked about right. "Not really, look at the third sixth and ninth spike. They are all longer.".

"Will you just shut up?!", you said in a shouted whisper only to realize that you had been left alone with the book and the circle in the silence of the basement. For a moment you merely listened into the silence, waiting for foot steps or anything alike, but only silence surrounded you. Shaking your head you looked at the depicted circle. No matter how annoying the voice had been what it had said was true. Clearly the spikes had been too long.

"Going mad already?", another voice joined the fray, "It took the old Bello years before he actually went insane. Of course he was much stronger than you will ever be.". Clearly this was not your own voice, every word was dripping with condescension and you can feel your heart clench as it spoke.

"Oh well, you already saw it. Go back four pages. Its the circle of the Red Death. You'd think humans would learn from past mistakes.".

Indeed the voice was right. The circle seemingly had all properties of the one drawn up by Von Pissen. The only thing that the voice had apparently gotten wrong was the name. While the book described that an old Grand Priest had summoned forth the Shadow Orton, the voice itself had proclaimed that somebody called Red Death had actually summoned the mirror.

"You call him Grand Priest and I call him a power hungry warmongerer, surely you are not going to claim I lied because of something Bello heard from a bunch of merchants?". Deciding it was probably best to ignore the voice you continued to read. The circle's purpose was to bind the Shadow for a war to come. A vague description of any rate. It could refer to the defense of the city or a revolt that would tear the kingdom down and see Von Pissen crowned as new king.

>Skills:

+ Occult Knowledge (6)

>>27237

>>22720

Surely the apothecary would be able to vouch for you. Even should you not have been in his employ at the time surely the man would catch on easily enough, if necessary you would make it worth his time, after all you had no intention of getting into any more trouble than you were already in.

As you stepped out of the church and onto the stairs that led up the church hill you shuddered a little, "God's eyes are upon you sinner.", Andrew pressed out between his teeth. What a cockhead. You had merely shivered because it was cold, back home every day was warmer than this. Your eyes wandered up to the sky, it was heavy and grey with sadness. Further away you could see more dark clouds approaching. No rain, but clearly fire, perhaps even a signal? Either way it was clearly too far away to have been lit in the city.

Quickly you descended the stairs, here and there you could see children playing, certainly children of the church. Who knew perhaps these even were the priests' children. Then again many of the Northern nations did not allow their priests to have children, something that in your experience only few of them really sticked to. It was only the rich and noble that could afford to go without children, that and obviously those who had been given to the church because their families could not feed them to begin with.

The streets were dirty and filled with people, refugees form the surrounding villages. Uhlmannen scouts had burnt down their fields no doubt, it wasn't the first time you had seen those empty glances. Assuring yourself that Andrew was still beside you you turned your head only to realize that he was staring directly at you as if he expected you to make a run for it at any second. People here were small both in body and mind. It would be your pleasure to prove him wrong.

Or at least so you thought. You instinctively stopped as you saw guards dragging the apothecary from his store under loud protest. Something about him having been framed and all that. Surely no guard who had served for more than a week would still believe such things. It was then that you realized what had just happened. Panic started to take root in the back of your head. You had to play it cool, surely Andrew had no idea that you had planned to lead him to this place. But where were you going to go now? You had to find someone who could back you up, but you needed time to think. Andrew seemed content as it was looking onto the scenery as the apothecary was dragged away under great protest.

>Skills:

- Lucky (2)

>>27238

>>25143

When you arrived for your first day of training you could already feel the tension in the air. The oddest thing about it was that it wasn't the recruits that were exhibiting the atmosphere. Something had the Veterans nervous, the elite, men who had proven able fighters time and time again. There was no way this was a good sign, however as you approached they seemed to relax a little, one even couldn't hide a grin as he laid eye upon your sigil.

"Are we getting our own Phoenix Knights know?", he said evoking some tired signs of laughter from his comrades, "Come all the way from the Warm Sea to save us have you? Doesn't matter. Pick up a sword and show me what you can do, none of that fire shenanigains.".

You didn't really know what he was referring to, the warm sea laid to the South, it was a great body of water that seperated the Southern Deserts from the fertile lands of the West, both were many weeks of travel away from your cold inhospitable homelands. Still you would not turn down his challenge, after all a little misinformation had never hurt anybody. And what was that fire shenanigains he was talking about anyway?

You drew your blade. Not the finest of weapons, it had no doubt been forged in the smithing frenzy that the Uhlmannen had caused, if you didn't know any better you would have accused the smiths to be working with the invaders. Every invasion made the smiths even richer. Sometimes you had to ask yourself why there weren't more noble families who used to be Smith's then again now that you thought about it that was very much what the Von Schmied line.. the first swing almost took your nose off as you quickly jumped backwards.

"Eyes on the prize Big Bird.", your sparring partner reminded you already following up with a low swing. His sword was no better than yours but you could already tell that he was using it with the utmost proficiency. His strikes rained down on you like a summer storm, his sword in so many places at the same time, it was a miracle you were able to keep up. This man had no doubt deserved his reputation as a Veteran.

You did good, but not quite good enough, eventually your dance of parades broke under the sheer force of his attacks, the world seemed to slow down. You saw it happen. The brute strength of his attack deflected your sword upwards leaving your side unprotected and vulnerable. There was no way you would be able to divert your sword in time to parry the next incoming attack. You braced for impact.

And nothing happened. For a second you stood in front of each other, your muscles tensed up, then you lowered your weapons. He had seen the weak spot in your defense and so had you, there was no point in striking merely to make a point. You were above such petty symbolism.

Sliding down the nearest wall you both took a seat. Patting you on the shoulder he told you that you were probably the most capable recruit he had met in his time with the Whitecastles and most certainly the most able one that had shown up on their doorstep after the Uhlmannen had begun their attacks. "But really, I'm impressed with your fighting style. Your movements just look so clean. Where did you learn to fight like that?".

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (3)

+ Dueling (2)

>>27239

>>25095

With a short nod and a few hand gestures you ordered your men, even though you had never led these men before they were fully comprehended what you wanted them to do. No matter whether you came from the cold steppes of the East or the hot sands of the South all Veterans spoke the tongue of war.

Quietly they fused with the darkness, disappearing into the labyrinth of tents as you and the six veterans that remained stuck to your cover. Long minutes passed, your mind was already going wild. What if they had been captured? Would they talk? If so how long would it take the Uhlmannen to cut the truth out of them? In silent concentration you stared onto the tents and their guards. Then it happened.

A single loud yell tore the silence only to be abruptly cut off. The guards seemed nervous, however they still couldn't leave their post. Not far away you could see some smoke begin to rise. More and more shouts began to ring through the camp, the guards became yet more nervous, yelling at those who passed by telling them to check it out. However the fire continued to spread. Soon more shouts began to reach you and the sound of metal meeting metal. You grasped your spear tightly, you couldn't wait much longer. Of course your men would do their very best to distract the Uhlmannen but they would have to move sooner than later if they wanted to make it out alive.

A few more seconds passed and men began to leave the tents, you had not even be aware that they had been inside the first place. There wasn't much of a discussion to be had, however after a few angry shouts most of them took off leaving only two of them to guard the tents, even them staring into the direction of the always growing swaths of smoke rising up into the sky.

You gave the sign and you and your man swiftly moved in. Your spear pierced the back of his had, sending the body falling to the group with a sickening clap. The body of the second guard quickly joined him as one of your men cut his head clean off. Rapidly advancing towards the nearest fire pit, grapsing whatever they could hold and tossing it onto the tents. It took a few seconds for the fur to catch on, but once it had begun the fire swiftly began to eat through the animal skin.

In awe you watched as the flames jumped onto the surrounding tents, sweeping away the cold wet of the night and turning the formerly calm surroundings of the Uhlmannen camp into a hellfire inferno. Entire walls of fire began to spread throughout the encampment, rolling over tents and people alike turning them into burnt out husks as the thick black smoke began to fog the skies. A heavy taste of Ash settled in your mouth.

"Let's move!", you yelled over the loud cracking of the flames, your men quickly forming a circle around you as you tried to find a way out of the apocalyptic scenario you had unleashed upon the invaders. One last time you turned around to spot a slim silhouette behind the flames. You immediately recognized Aleksandra's curves as she slowly lowered her spear into the flames and they began to split.

Through a maze of deadly fires you and your men managed to rendevous not far from the camp. In awe you and your men looked back onto the raging fires you had summoned forth. Like a wildfire the orange flames were spreading across the endless forest of tents the fire only overshadowed by the helpless cries of those being burnt alive. Quickly you got onto your horse and rode back towards the city, the last thing you wanted to do was stick around and wait for the response.

Morning already dawned as you reached the city gates and they let you and your ten men inside. Today you taught the Uhlmannen the value of ten good men.

>Skills:

+ Riding (3)

+ Scouting (2)

+ Stealth (8)

+ Polearms (1)

+ Whitecastle Respect (35)

Rolled 76, 66 = 142 (2d100)

>>27231

>>Name:Vivian Nation

>>Fluff: Vivian was alone crying in the rubble. The mercenaries hired to destroy the castle decided that grabbing a baby girl to "use" once she grows up seemed like a sound idea. That was until they realized that they had spent so much time and effort taking care of this girl, that they couldn't rape her. By the time she was 18 she was already fighting like the best of them. When one of the men finally got pissed at her one day and told her how they all raped and killed most of her family, torched her home, and even stole her fathers sword, she took it quiet well. She ripped out the throat of the one who told her, took the sword off of his corpse, and told the others she was going to need some "alone time", but considering her personality that was very rational.

>>Inventory:+ Father's Sword

>>+ Plain Clothes (Female) [Wearing]

>>+ Plain Clothes (Male)

>>Money: 42 Copper

>>Skills:

>>+ Swordfighting (50)

>>+ Survival (50)

>>Flaws:+ [Hard Goodbye] You are not exactly on good terms with your old mercenary band and word travels fast. This may be trouble in the long run.

>>Bonus:

>>+ [Tough Girl] You're a tough girl, you've spent your life on the road and don't mind eating moldy food from time to time. Though you do still have some bonding issues this will assist you further in combat and survival.

>>Skills:+ Drinking (4)

>>+ Intimidate (4)

>>+ Hand to Hand (25)

>>+ Girl Talk (5)

>>+ Being a douche (5)

>>Drinking (20)

>>+ Eavesdropping (1)

>>+ Butterfacing (10)

>>+ Dodge (1)

+ Relations - Fighting Pit (15)

>>Job:

>>+ Warehouse Guardian (+ 6 Copper / Turn)

1: Vivian awakens with a splitting headache, in a house she doesn't particularly recognize, covered in dried blood and sweat. Or as she likes to call it, Tuesday. Realizing that she actually has responsibilities to do, and wanting to continue avoiding her family, Vivian makes her way to her job as a guardswoman, in her gruff clothes in order to collect some pay.

2: After work she makes off in a semi mad dash to the bar from the night before to see what tonight will offer her.

Rolled 24, 80 = 104 (2d100)

>>27236

>Name: Eric Nation

>Fluff: Eric is a tall and lanky young man, standing a full head's length above your average person. Not that you'd notice it. Ever since his birth He's just sort of blended into the background. People see him, they just don't recognize he's actually there. Many times in his life he's walked up to people in full view and nearly given the heart attacks by speaking to them. It's not something he does with intent, it's just that he's so unassuming and unimportant in most people's minds they don't recognize him being there. The fact he was also 7th born son to his father, along with his own nature of being beneath notice meant his schooling in matters politic and in arms was lacking. However when the invasion came he was handy enough with his Grandfather's dagger to surprise and kill several soldiers before ditching his clothes for peasants rags and blending into the horde of refuges fleeing the land.

>>Inventory

>+ Grandfather's Ornate Dagger (Sharpened)

>+ Grandfather's Dagger (No Ornament, Flawless Copy)

>+ Plain Clothes (in closet)

>+ Servants Clothing (wearing)

>+ 152 Copper

>+ Lilith's Iron Flower

>>Skills:

>+ Daggering (38)

>+ Noble Customs (62)

>+ Sneaking (41)

>+ Stealing (6)

>+ Running (56)

>+ Haggling (6)

>+ Climbing (3)

>>Flaws:

>+ [Forgettable] You were made to be forgotten. While guards will often forget your face and you can get lost in large crowds easily this is horrible for heroic speeches, begging or finding true love.

+ Enemy [Blueberry Tom]

>>Bonuses:

>+ [Unassuming] You are rarely accused of doing anything, largely because people don't care or expect you to have done anything. Also bonus to sneaking

>>Job

+ Servant(Spy) - Whitecastles (15 Copper / Turn)

>Patron Sir Alistair

>>Holdings:

+ House near Market (4 rooms) - Owned

>Updates:

+ Long

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

1-2. If that fire is indicative of what I think it is, an Uhlmannen camp, The whole city will know soon. Time to go to work in earnest. Position myself in such a way as too look like a normal servant on errands, and watch the coming and goings of mercenaries and the forces of the other noble families. Maybe if I am lucky they will even spill something in passing that will really useful I can tell my patron.

+Unassuming

+ Noble Customs (62)

+ Sneaking (41)

Rolled 42, 46 = 88 (2d100)

>>27236

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 33 copper

+ 15 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (64)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (56)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (7)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (20)

+ Shield Tactics (12)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)

Flaws: + [Greedy] You have a hard time letting go of gold, people you have to pay do not appreciate this.

+ [Lustful +] You like a good tumble, this comes with some expertise in the area. Women find it hard to resist you however the feeling is mutual. Be careful not to hurt the ones you love.

Bonuses: [Wielder of the Dragon Fang] Your weapon is your father's blade. It is not magic, only a fool would believe that, but if handled right the blade dances almost as if alive, sneaking past scales of armor and cutting deep into enemy flesh. You've also never cut yourself on this one before.

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [Good Samarithan] You're a good guy and the ladies dig it.

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Update- Long

1&2. Talk to the people on the scene and see who the two major figures, the one in the red robe and the southern man of dark skin, are and what the heck is going on.

+Luck (1)

>>27249

You can interact with Baz free of action.

Rolled 62, 76 = 138 (2d100)

1/2 - "I, had, eh, some previous experience with a police squawk- er, squad. Nothing near as good as yours though, clearly!" Edmund grins - as well as one can grin when one has a beak - and returns to his cabin, to resume training in the morning.

>Continue to train

>>27239

Name: Edmund Nation

Fluff: Sir Edmund has hidden a terrible secret from his family. For years he has used the best makeup and disguises money could buy to hide his true nature. He wore concealing cloaks, practiced squawking in four different languages, and hid his 'skin condition' from view. You see, Edmund Nation is a bird. There is no bird more honorable and noble in all the world, however, and he defends his family name to the last, even if it means his secret is discovered.

You are a bird posing as a man. Well actually you are a man thinking he is a bird posing as a man. Even centuries from now they would not fully be able to understand your condition. Perhaps god had played a cruel joke on you, but ever since you can remember you've kept this secret from everyone else. Your greatest power, but possibly your achilles heel as well.

>Inventory:

+ Sigil of Flame

+ Crow (Craven)

+ Bird House (Crow-sized)

+ 25 copper

+ Iron Sword (Whitecastle)

+ Leather Armor (Whitecastle)

>Skills:

+ Haggling (4)

+ Housewifery (4)

+ Ungrateful (5)

+ Running (4)

+ Hand to Hand (8)

+ Intimidation (1)

+ Swordfighting (63)

+ Dueling (52)

+ Luck (8)

+ Mechanical Understanding (?) (16)

>Flaws:

+ [The Bird Issue] If somebody discovers your secret you are compelled to obey their commands in order for them not to reveal your terrible secret. This would not prevent you from killing them. Of course only if they specifically found out that you are a bird pretending to be human, not a human thinking he is a bird pretending to be human. The latter would be a ridiculous lie.

+ [Bird Talk] Sometimes you can't resist and just chirp along with the birds.

>Bonuses:

+ [The Phoenix Sigil] You are uncertain what it does, has to be some sort of riddle. Better be careful and don't destroy your family heirloom. Though if you could open it somehow, who knew what would be inside?

>Job:

+ Whitecastle Soldier ( 1 Silver / Turn)

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>>27269

My good man Daradara this >>27232 is your last update

You can keep the rolls.

Rolled 86, 12 = 98 (2d100)

>>27290

Name: Aethelric Nation

Fluff: After the Uhlmannen burned Nation castle and destroyed the livelihood of the noble family, Aethelric (Once a veritable social butterfly) became more withdrawn, sometimes disappearing from the group for long periods of time before returning, sometimes with new trinkets, and sometimes with whiskey on his breath. He has a weakness for alcohol, which causes problems at times. It’s generally a good idea to keep him away from bars. However, when consulted, he always seems to know the best vintages and batches from wineries and breweries across the land. So that’s a plus. Unfortunately, they’re almost all insanely expensive. So that’s a minus. He used to be proud of the noble blood that ran in his veins, but now it means little more to him than the clothes on his back, serving as a painful reminder of easier, happier times.

>Inventory:

+ 2x Finecraft Family Dagger

+ 5 Loaves of Bread

+ 7 Copper

+ 1 Almost full bottle of Whiskey

+ Document of Banking (19 Silver - The Juhs)

+ Scroll Case

+ Bill of Ownership - 12 Pigs (Whitecities)

>Skills:

+ Daggering (25)

+ Disguise (50)

+ Drinking (27)

+ Sneaking (33)

+Stealing (2)

+ Alcohol Knowledge (25)

>Flaws:

+ [Alcoholic] You can hardly go without alcohol for more than a few hours before you start to get nervous. Longer periods of time without alcohol can grow into serious sickness, as well as concentration issues, vomiting, shivers etc.

>Bonuses:

+ [Second Liver] You have been drinking so much your tolerance has grown to incredible levels. While certainly this would not be healthy for any other human being you can easily outdrink most and will suffer much less from alcohol and some other sorts of poisoning.

+ [Poor Sod] People just naturally tend to feel sorry for you. This can come with some advantages if you don't mind being pitied a lot.

Oh. My bad.

In response to: >>27232

1/2. Aetheric thinks that he has only a few options. One: stay where he is and hope she doesn't get up. That's dumb because she could get up. She obviously thinks that there's someone there. Two: Try to sneak out. That's dumb because she's on high-alert. Three: Knock her out/kill her. This is probably the dumbest of all, because that's an additional, more severe crime than breaking and entering or theft. Of course, he could take a fourth option: disguise. He quickly shoves his pilfered goods into his clothes, first putting his scroll in the case as quietly as possible, then stowing away the certificate in his smallclothes. Hopefully, she won't look there. The case, he can put somewhere in his robes, preferably somewhere that a scroll-shaped bulge wouldn't be out of place. Next, he hunches himself over, and throws up his hood. Making the sounds of a shuffling old man, he speaks, raspily and in a voice quite unlike his own: "He-hello, there? Who are you? I'm terribly lost. Can you please help me? I don't know quite where I am…" As he does this, he can pretend to support himself on whatever surfaces are nearby while he works his way into a more illuminated area. He's just a poor, lost, old man, after all. Who doesn't want to help one. If she freaks, he can try to assuage her fears. "Oh, please. I don't mean to intrude, and I certainly don't mean you any harm, but I'm just so lost…" A couple spots where he chokes back tears couldn't hurt here and there. [Poor sod bonus to getting her to feel bad for me]

Rolled 99, 61 = 160 (2d100)

>>27233

>>27234

Name: Sigurd Nation

Fluff: Sigurd is the oldest surviving member of the once-grand Nation family, father to many of it's strongest children and at one point a greatly-respected man for his rational judgement and skill at arms - and he had it all taken away in an instant. Few of his children still breathe, his house lies in financial and popular ruin and one of his eyes was burned to uselessness, making even combat difficult for the aging man. His brothers and sisters all lie missing or dead as well, and taking care of their children and re-assembling the great house of Nation from it's ashes has fallen onto his shoulders. Perhaps the most shameful thing to him was the loss of his grand blade and armor, things he desperately seeks back.

>Inventory:

+ Ancestor's Pendant

+ Fancy Clothes

+ Fancy Hat

+ 13 Silver

+ Noble Iron Sword

+ Great Book of Catacombs and Sewagery (and knowledge)

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (67)

+ Leadership (28)

+ Searching (2)

+ Luck (1)

+ Sneaking (3)

+ Charisma (10)

+ Searching (13)

+ Faith (4)

+ Running (4)

>Holdings:

+ House in Nice Part of Town (2 rooms) - Owned

>Job:

+ Charles Whitecity - Swordtrainer (3 Silver / Turn)

>Flaws:

+ [Aging] You become older every year and slowly your skill at arms begins to degrade. The guilt and ridicule do nothing to improve the situation. It's only rubbing more salt into old wounds.

Post preference: As long as makes sense for fluff given.

1:

Hmph. It only makes sense to plot a course beforehand, to examine these sewers and ensure that we do, in fact, have a practical and working route for escape should the need come. I do not intend to abandon this city, but if worst comes to worst, it is better to be prepared than to allow yourself to stand decrepit.

2. I suppose duty comes ahead of family, even now. I must keep an open eye for political opportunity in any way I can, as advantages and favors often come from the most unexpected of places. Should I be unable to seat myself in a position of power soon, by title or by deed, the whole of this city will suffer from the hands of the approaching horde.

Rolled 81, 44 = 125 (2d100)

>>27237

Name: Ophelia Nation

Fluff:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4JxChxvHrU

Ophelia is the model Lady, prim, proper, well mannered, and aloof. And like every Proper Lady she has a dark secret. Ophelia has been taken by the Occult, it fascinates her, the ideas of demons and aberrations existing sends shivers of excitement down her spine. It was not long before she was swept up by a Demonic Cult. Though Secretive and hard to Find they welcomed her into their ranks and her rise within them was rapid, some would say blessed by the very demons they worship. Though her position at the moment is tenuous due to the loss of home and fortune Ophelia is certain that she will keep her position and possibly find temporary housing within a cult member's estate.

Inventory:

+ The Black Tome of Nation

+Well Made Dress

>Home:

+ Von Pissen Residence

Skills:

+ Noble Customs (77)

+ Occult Knowledge (115)

Flaws:

- [Fascinated] Life as a proper lady is incredibly dull and sometimes you are perhaps a bit too excited about the various things you do that concern your cult. You feel the urge to share at least some of the things you know, may it be in sharing it over a cup of tea with a friend or giving ominous warnings to people. Beware you don't talk to much or someone might have to die.

+ [Orton] You hear voices in your head, they council you, they understand. They talk to you.

Bonuses:

+ [The Apocyan Sigil] You are a member of the Apocyan Sigil, a secret society devoted to uncovering the secrets surrounding demons and other evil spirits. While it mostly consists of nobles who want to be elitist in some form and enjoy the secrecy that goes along with the cult's practices the members of the upper circles remain unknown to you. You know various secret signs to identify cult members as well as the basic rituals associated with it.

Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Updates:

+Long

1.2. Well I've either got one demon in my head in the form of Orton or there are multiple with Orton and the "Shadow" either way I need to learn to control their influence over me, retreat to my room and search for techniques in the black tome to exert control over the demons contained in me, if there is nothing attempt simple meditation.

>>27241

Escaping your family prison without being discovered was of the highest priority. Silently you dropped out of your bed onto all four quickly crawling over the rough floor towards the nearest exit. Of course you could have just stayed for a bit and cleaned yourself up, however you really didn't feel like interacting with your family today or on any other day really.

You showed up for work still somewhat bloodied and dirtied. People made sure to stay clear of the storage you were guarding, though when the merchant who hired you showed up he too was shocked by what he saw. "My god what happened?", he asked you with wide opened eyed, hectically looking around for any signs of the attackers. Unable to formulate an extensive answer in your head you merely crossed your arms and eyed this merchant, giving him a short, "Eh.", while rolling your eyes.

For a moment he just looked at you but then he quickly nodded, "Of course, of course! A bonus!", quickly he grabbed his purse and foraged around for a two coins which he then promptly handed to you, "Yes! We are quite lucky to have you!", he exclaimed. A few more seconds he waited for another reaction of yours, however you just kept staring at him. "Righto.", he quickly slipped past you to make sure all of his goods were still there.

Later you returned to the bar. Of course you were still looking almost the same way you left, however nobody seemed to bother. Here and there people who hadn't forgotten you over their hangover were still patting you on the shoulder, the few guys that were already sitting at the bar toasting in your direction. Apparently you had come here early today.

Having to kill some time you decided to chat up the barkeeper who turned out to share your contempt for sober human interaction. You exchanged a number of grunts and nods over a beer or two. Your non conversation continued for some time while the underground bar began to fill with people of all colors and creeds.

Eventually your time was up, the first fight of the night was yours. Calling her a loud mouthed drunken whore was more of an observation than an insult really. You took her out swiftly and mercilessly making a little bonus on top of the generous donation your employer had made. The evening already promised to be a lot less interesting when you spotted a woman with a blueberry tatooed on her neck, she was quite muscular by any standard though apparently she was not particularly interested in the fights.

Her build made you question whether you could actually beat her, then again what was a fight without a challenge? You looked at the now bruised and drunken whore who was sulking near the bar a little less loud mouthed than before.

>Skills:

+ Hand to Hand (5)

>Inventory:

+ 2 Silver

+ 3 Copper

>>27495

>>27243

You had some making up to do, after all much time had passed without you supplying any useful information and you were getting paid quite handsomely for doing so. At dawn you were already positioned on the city wall over the gates looking around and to your very surprise you were already rewarded. In the distance you could see a group of riders. No more than eleven. Though the one spearheading them clearly had an Uhlmannen riding style to him the others looked nothing like Uhlmannen, actually their armors bore the Whitecastle sigil. Quickly you descended the wall again and made your way towards the gate, hoping you could catch a good look before they got into the city and inevitably disappeared.

As you approached the gate the riders were already talking to the guards. Silently you held yourself in the background getting a better glimps at the men beyond the gate. They were bloodied, their armors marked by numerous cuts, their faces tired but serious. These didn't look like Uhlmannen infiltrators but then again they never did. The man leading the others who had reminded you of an Uhlmann was dressed in oddly fine clothing for a warrior, he bore no sword but there was a remarkable spear strapped onto his back, clearly of Uhlmannen craftsmanship.

However it was not only that, aside from his odd accent which appeared to be a mix of Uhlmann and Eastern he struck you as familiar. Though you felt like you had seen him before you simply couldn't pinpoint it. The bright yellow hair and the clear blue eyes. Something about them.. it simply wouldn't come to you. Perhaps your paths had crossed before but you were certain that it had not been after the Uhlmannen had sacked your homelands.

After an almost uncannily quick conversation the guards opened the gates and let the riders inside, to your relieve the first thing they did was not cut open the men and begin to seize the gatehouse but merely ride into town. You managed to follow them in the still somewhat early streets. Apparently the refugees didn't intend to rise with the sun. After a few streets you finally began to fall behind the riders, however you could see them riding up towards the castle. Surely you would be able to find answers there if you sought them.

As you returned to the city wall once more the guards had been doubled. No doubt whatever the riders had told the guards the Whitecity's were concerned and that meant you should be concerned as well. It took roughly an hour for the next rider to show up. He was dressed in wide robes. The guards immediately began to eye him with distrust, mostly because he was lacking an accent or dialogue, a trait mostly found amongst diplomats.

A lengthy discussion later the man was finally let inside, he headed immediately for the church. Though it wasn't unheard of that people sought the protection of god on their travels this was still rather unusual and quite suspicious at that.

>Skills:

+ Running (2)

+ Sneaking (2)

+ Spotting (2)

>>27496

>>27251

Finding a black market that dealt in completely legal goods which were well supplied by the local guilds proved harder than you initially predicted. Of course there were always those who refused to obey the guild rules, who wanted to charge different prices and needed the money from additional product sales in order to keep afloat.

Lucky for you you were no official guardsmen but merely a 'hired help' for Turmhill. As a merchant and not an actual noble people did not have to fear you punishing them for breaching guild laws and after a bit of asking around amongst your soldiers they actually pointed you in the direction of a man called Pebble.

The name had apparently been derived from his particularly clean shave which you had to take a few moments to comprehend. It was like the man had never grown a single hair on his face, but a man he was. Following a short introduction with a firm handshake he showed you the wares which were a number of Reinforced Leather Armors, contrary to what you expected they did not look faulty at all. Perhaps they simply had been overproduction or perhaps someone else had been unwilling to pay the price.

"4 Silvers for one of them.", Pebble declared, "After all there's more than enough private buyers in the city.", he didn't seem to be in the mood for haggling and the Reinforced Leather would be sure to deflect most arrows if they would hit the reinforced areas. While you still weren't going to stand in front of a man with a bow and present your chest these armors were selling you piece of mind against the light Uhlmannen bows.

>You can buy Reinforced Leather Armor for 4 Silver each (free action)

With that deal concluded you continued your search for information. After having spent roughly half of the day searching for your black market wares you were sort of relieved by how easy it was to come across peasantry. Of course there was a lot of rumors. A woman that skinned and ate people alive, a terrifying Griffin that soared through the skies and dropped people to be splattered on the rocks below men who controlled fire with only their words and all sort of nonsense.

However there was some useful information as well. Apparently some of the refugees had seen large groups of prisoners chained up by the Uhlmannen, they were probably going to be used as shields against your own men's bows, that or they would be brought back to the steppes to serve the Horselords as slaves. But that was not all. Apparently the Uhlmannen had begun chopping wood and not just fire wood. They had practically begun the deforestation of a large area surrounding the city. Certainly the barbarians were planning to use the wood for their war machines.

>Skills:

+ Collect Information (4)

>>27497

>>27262

Aside from learning a bit better how to swing your sword training taught you a lot of other things. Of course you had known a little bit about the noble families, however when practicing with the Whitecastles you got into the treat of some biased reporting through the eyes of a few humble soldiers.

Apparently the Whitecastle and Whitecity families who had sprung from the same dynasty had been competing for over a hundred years, though despite their rivalry they had only rarely been at each other's throats. The situation escalated after the murder of Alistair Whitecastle former Lord over the castle within the city and the current Lord Whitecastle's father. Though his murder was never officially solved soon thereafter the old Lord Whitecity was assassinated in what many believed to be retaliation.

The new rulers of the Whitecastle and Whitecity families had been in mutual distrust ever since. While the Whitecastle Patriarch had, according to the soldiers, been trying to return the situation to normal the City's Lord had done the exact opposite, taking advantage of his counterpart's feeble attempts to mend the broken relationship. Many had been certain that inevitably war would decide which family was going to rule over both city and castle, however with the appearance of the Uhlmannen they had both been forced into an uncomfortable stalemate.

Something else that had most people nervous was obviously the late King's brother seizing his throne for himself. Naturally after the murder of his brother there was no way that this new ruler could call himself King, however with the support of the Western Lords and no formal alliance to try and take him on it was quite clear that none possessed the power to challenge the new King.

Still neither Whitecastle nor Whitecity had taken a position on the matter yet. Neither were able to easily triumph over the other should battle erupt and while whomever sided with the king would surely be able to hope for his support he would inevitably loose the blessing of the church and thus the loyalty of his people. Of course the rich merchant Turmhill with his considerable force had not taken a position on the matter as well, though many of the soldiers were certain he could be bought with promises of land and power.

Exhausted from all of your training you sat down near a wall and looked onto the castle's courtyard where numerous men continued their respectable training. There were a lot of new recruits who easily outnumbered the trained veterans, you were certain that many of them were refugees seeking protection behind the city's walls. It was then that you noticed an unusual man with bright blonde hair and blue eyes. Both his fine clothing and mobile fighting style wouldn't quite fit in with the others.

It took you a few minutes of sitting and watching until you finally realized what he reminded you of. An Uhlmann. Sure he wore fine clothing, but the way that he used that oddly looking spear of his, how he tried to dodge instead of parry, just all of his movements were so.. wrong? Still you couldn't help but think that you had seen him before, perhaps in your childhood? Then again the man seemed to be your age and Uhlmannen were known for their dark hair and almond shaped eyes.

(It's Ash, player interaction is free)

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (4)

+ Dueling (3)

>>27498

>>27272

Bitterness and hatred made the world go round. It was your family that had first taken their men East to expand their lands in search of power and riches. It was the Nations who had burnt the tribals' homes and sent them out into the deadly Eastern winter to perish in the snow. Most of them did, but the hatred that burned in the hearts of those that remained was what kept them warm. Over years their built an empire that would shake the foundations of the known world on the bones of their enemies and hatred of your forefathers.

Eventually they returned to their old homelands with a fearsome horde at their back. Your family tried to appeal to them in the same way they would have appealed to another noble house. The offer of a royal marriage. Sure the former tribals didn't turn you down, but little did your family know that words of good intent meant nothing to a people branded by bitter hate.

Of course now you understood their sentiment all too well. Had you been given the chance you would have acted no different, still you had a wife, a family in law. But how much did your vows matter if that very family was coming to kill you and your own? With a sigh you concentrated more on training. Life wasn't easy.

Your progress was acceptable, though you still had a lot of things to think about. You had to focus on what you really wanted, then again, what was that really? Did you want to give up your wife and murder her family? They surely were not going to just turn around and leave until they had what they wanted, whatever that was.

Finally you had completed todays training, of course you were paid a silver for your troubles, certainly you could earn more if you were to return to your employer to declare that your mission had been a success. Still you couldn't help but feel that you were being watched and usually you were not the paranoid type, but then again you had just raided an Uhlmannen encampment and had watched many men burn to their horrific deaths. Something that would be sure to haunt you.

>Inventory:

+1 Silver

>Skills:

+ Polearms (3)

+ Dodge (1)

>>27499

>>27249

Why were the guards arresting that man, who was he and most importantly, why was this giving you such an odd feeling? Observing your surroundings you noticed a handful of bystanders spread around though from the questioning looks on their face you deducted that they had no real idea what was going on either. At leas the first two questions you had could easily be answered by the very people in question. The guards.

A charming devil as you were you immediately stepped up to the guards making the arrest. One of them was of a slim and small build almost a whole head smaller than you, naturally you ignored him for the one that was a little taller than you and built like an ox. As for your questions they were quickly answered with the Ox' angry stare, "What's it to you mercenary?". Clearly he did not have a very high opinion of you for some reason, "Do you want to play guard too now?".

"He sold illegal contraband!", the smaller guard cheeped in from behind the ox, "Extract from the Devil's Flower, it alters the perception if smoked or otherwise consumed!". The Ox' face quickly changed from angry to confused, as he turned around to his colleague he put on a crocodile's grin, "Oh yes, and why don't you tell the good Turmhill here where we are taking him next, hmm?". For some reason the slim guard quickly saluted cheaping on, "By direct order of 'Solomon of Whitecity' any and all suspects linked to the production or distribution of the Devil's Flower or its extract are to be handed over to him in person for questioning.".

Even though he really should have expected nothing else the Ox only got angrier and began to shout at his fellow guardsman as you quickly slipped away. While they had been explaining the situation you had been eyeing the man. Clearly he was not a member of your family, his face was nothing alike yours, his stance was that of a commoner and his accent that of a man raised in the gutters of the city. No, there had to have been some other reasons for your feeling.

As for the Devil's Flowers you hadn't had any personal experience with them but you did know that there was a group named the Devil's Daughters who specialized in obtaining the flowers by using young girls who suffered less lethal punishment at the hands of authorities. You've had a run in with them in the past though they hadn't exactly announced themselves as a criminal organization.

>Skills:

+ Gather Information (5)

>>27500

>>27300

"Oh please, I didn't mean to scare you!", she got up and came over to you with quick steps, now that you had gotten a hold of the situation you proceeded to evaluate her. The steps were light, but certainly not a hunters and her quick change of heart indicated that she lacked the distrust common amongst moth townspeople. From her light dialect you could deduct that she had to be a farmer's daughter from a village not too far away. The question remained why she was sleeping in a library. Of course she had been forced to flee due to the circumstances and was most likely not able to afford an inn, but if you recalled correctly the church was taking in most of the refugees.

Frowning in a sudden fit of realization you stared onto the ground, not able to help yourself but feel that you had been squandering your potential ever since you had come to the city. Ever since the Uhlmannen had forced you out of your home really. You were a butterfly and butterflies wanted to fly. It was in the name after all.

You could feel a soft hand on your cheek and quickly retreated, apparently your sad gaze had been working even better than you had anticipated, "No please. I didn't mean to scare you.", she said, trying to follow you as you tried to uphold the disguise of a confused old man. "I didn't mean to..", for a moment she stopped, ".. uh.". Now she started gazing into the air putting her hands onto her hips.

Apparently she had started counting one and one together and was now wondering who was really trespassing whom and how you had actually managed to get lost within a library that only a handful of people ever had access to in the first place. Perhaps it would be best if you managed to get her thoughts of the subject and back to the matter at hand, which was that you were indeed not a threat but merely in need of assistance to get out again.

>Skills:

+ Disguise (7)

+ Lying (3)

>>27501

>>27468

(1/2)

While not everyone necessarily told you everything they did you were mostly aware of your family's doings. While Edmund had recently begun working for the Whitecastle family, you were in the firm belief that Eric was also working for them, but then again you always had the tendency to forget about Eric even back when you were still home.

However saying that your families' loyalties lay with the Whitecastles was far from accurate, you yourself after all were tutor to nobody less than the Whitecitys youngest son, a child certainly in need of some straightening out lest he become known for torturing whores for his amusement.

And yet there were even more family members who remained in the employ of the rich merchant Turmhill who bared to afford his own army. Both Wikiver and Tacticus had taken it upon themselves to lead his troops into battle. You were well connected amongst the three largest players in the city, four if you counted Bartholomew's sway with the church, however you were uncertain whether he was actually willing to put the family before the church.

One way or another you were well connected within the city, surely some would look upon this and accuse you of spreading your tentacles throughout the city in a bid for power, however it also put you into a unique position to influence the events that were about to conspire as you did not only have the connections required, but also a turmp card that each and every one of the powerful men and women of the city desired.

A way out of the city even if it were to be surrounded by thousands of stinking barbarians. Though you could offer this service to anyone you so wanted to it was probably best to stick with only one of the great houses for now. After all where was the leverage if everyone knew about your passage ways?

Wrinkling your nose you stepped down into the sewer resisting the urge to wave the daylight goodbye. You had come well prepared with an ample supply of torches and firestones in case the first one would not live up to your expectations, much like a number of your dear family members.

The sewer walls were old and had taken a sickly green shimmer from the centuries of exposure, had it not been as disgusting you would have appreciated it for its rich history, after all tradition and legacy were everything a man could hope for.

Being careful not to drop the book into the diseased brew you meticulously followed the sewage layouts provided in the book. Whenever you came to a dead end you used your crayon to mark a large X indicating there was no passing through, trailing back to the last branch-off and making an indication there as well.

By now the gasses must have gotten to your head because as you were about to follow the next passage way you could swear to have heard something falling into the water behind you. A little nervous you turned around and stared into the gaping maw of the seemingly endless tunnel that was lying behind you, a small river of unknown depth flanked by two inadequately slippery walkways.

The moment you turned back around you were staring into a pair of ice blue eyes. Immediately you slided backwards a move that worked perhaps even better than you had expected as your empty hand quickly shot towards the sword that was still hanging on your side.

>>27502

>>27468

(2/2)

"Hail traveller!", the person before you announced, as the adrenaline began to die down you were uncertain whether this was the point at which you became more or less concerned. Not far before you stood a middle aged woman, clearly younger than you but older than your own children, dressed in a light white dress, its edges were soaked with a brown-greenish fluid.

For a few moments longer she kept her arms raised as some form of grand gesture, then slowly tucking them away in her sleeves. "The Serpent God greets you merchant.", she proclaimed fixating you with her unsettling light blue eyes and snow white skin, "I am high priestess Lynn. What have you brought from the lands where the water flows shallow?".

Evidently she had mistaken you for a merchant, no doubt because of your fine clothing. Her bright blond hair was almost as white as her dress and clearly lacked a few hours of good combing, still the possibly most unsettling part were her freakishly sharp canines. For some reason you couldn't help but feel that she would get along just great with your own daughter.

Silently you eyed your surroundings. There was nothing. Just tunnel ahead and tunnel behind you the river of shit silently making its way through. Did she really want to trade with you here? You could remember a large circular area not far from here, if a camp existed surely it was set up there. Then again maybe it was just customary to do business like this in the sewers.. or maybe she was just trying to buy time.

>Bonus:

+ [The Black Labyrinth] You know the ins and outs of the sewers. You know how to get in and out of the city unseen, if not necessarily unsmelled.

>>27503

>>27479

Not good. Not good at all. How do you outsmart something that listens to everything you think? "He's not that smart you know?", you tried to calm yourself, "Oh that's great coming from you.", the deep voice responded, "After all you are nothing more than my impersonation of her voice.". You could feel a spark of anger flare up inside you, "Don't try to discredit me in front of myself.".

With a sigh you sat down with the book, focussing really wasn't easy when people kept talking in your head all the time, "Hear that? You're annoying. Would you PLEASE shut up!", your voice addressed the other, "I'm not the one who started talking again. You know that her well-being is in my best interest right?", "Oh I'm sure it is.", your voice snapped back. "No really.", the deep voice announced itself again, "You know, if I'm really just a shadow then I only exist here. And I don't know whether you have noticed yet, but I really cling to my existance.".

Fair point. You skipped through Bello's pages as the voices in your head completely failed at either counceling or understanding you and bickered on about the evil nature of unnatural beings and why the tooth fairy was really no better than a necromancer. The information you gathered while they were busy with each other was actually quite helpful.

In his texts Bello elaborated that power was indeed a reciprocal affair. A Shadow bound into a sentient creature could not forcefully obtain control over its host, at least not while the majority of said sentient being's soul remained within its own control. However neither could the Mirror simply bestow upon its host the full extend of its ungodly powers. If a human sought to gain access to said power he would have to surrender some of his control in order for the Mirror to be able to then make some power available.

The relationship remained a slippery slope, which Bello elaborated on a number of cases in which Mirrors had tricked their masters by lying about the amounts of control that were needed to grant a certain amount of power. Still Bello was adamant in insisting that the blame was not only to be sought with the unnatural entities themselves, but those who had become greedy and mad with power as well, always pushing their boundaries to new limits until finally they corrupted themselves beyond saving.

Unfortunately there was no note about annoying voices in your head which could or could not be pretending to be you.

>Skills:

+ Occult Knowledge (8)

>>27504

""Hear ye! Hear ye!""

""In a daring raid brave Whitecastle soldiers have attacked the nearby Uhlmannen forces and inflicted heavy casualties!""

""The Warlord is filled with anger and contempt at such a defying show of force!""

Also the Uhlmannen are now advancing towards the city. Uhlmannen forces are expected to arrive at the city within the coming day or two and fully surround it.

All ready men who have not already chosen a House to serve are called upon to defend their city in this time of need.

>>27505

Ignore this until I can get someone to delete it.

Hear ye! Hear ye!

In a daring raid brave Whitecastle soldiers have attacked the nearby Uhlmannen forces and inflicted heavy casualties!

The Warlord is filled with anger and contempt at such a defying show of force!

Also the Uhlmannen are now advancing towards the city. Uhlmannen forces are expected to arrive at the city within the coming day or two and fully surround it.

All ready men who have not already chosen a House to serve are called upon to defend their city in this time of need.

Rolled 29, 58 = 87 (2d100)

>>27495

>>Name:Vivian Nation

>>Fluff: Vivian was alone crying in the rubble. The mercenaries hired to destroy the castle decided that grabbing a baby girl to "use" once she grows up seemed like a sound idea. That was until they realized that they had spent so much time and effort taking care of this girl, that they couldn't rape her. By the time she was 18 she was already fighting like the best of them. When one of the men finally got pissed at her one day and told her how they all raped and killed most of her family, torched her home, and even stole her fathers sword, she took it quiet well. She ripped out the throat of the one who told her, took the sword off of his corpse, and told the others she was going to need some "alone time", but considering her personality that was very rational.

>>Inventory:+ Father's Sword

>>+ Plain Clothes (Female) [Wearing]

>>+ Plain Clothes (Male)

>>Money: 45 Copper, 2 Silver

>>Skills:

>>+ Swordfighting (50)

>>+ Survival (50)

>>Flaws:+ [Hard Goodbye] You are not exactly on good terms with your old mercenary band and word travels fast. This may be trouble in the long run.

>>Bonus:

>>+ [Tough Girl] You're a tough girl, you've spent your life on the road and don't mind eating moldy food from time to time. Though you do still have some bonding issues this will assist you further in combat and survival.

>>Skills:+ Drinking (4)

>>+ Intimidate (4)

>>+ Hand to Hand (30)

>>+ Girl Talk (5)

>>+ Being a douche (5)

>>Drinking (20)

>>+ Eavesdropping (1)

>>+ Butterfacing (10)

>>+ Dodge (1)

+ Relations - Fighting Pit (15)

>>Job:

>>+ Warehouse Guardian (+ 6 Copper / Turn)

1-2: "Oi the girl with the hickey from a fruit salad. Ow bout you n me 'ave a go. Less ur more bark than bite. Big girl like you reminds me of home, an that makes mi wan ta fight sumthin"

Rolled 52, 97 = 149 (2d100)

1 - Train train train

2 - Investigate the Sigil further. Those veterans said something about Phoenix Knights? Maybe that has something to do with where this came from.

>>27498

Name: Edmund Nation

Fluff: Sir Edmund has hidden a terrible secret from his family. For years he has used the best makeup and disguises money could buy to hide his true nature. He wore concealing cloaks, practiced squawking in four different languages, and hid his 'skin condition' from view. You see, Edmund Nation is a bird. There is no bird more honorable and noble in all the world, however, and he defends his family name to the last, even if it means his secret is discovered.

You are a bird posing as a man. Well actually you are a man thinking he is a bird posing as a man. Even centuries from now they would not fully be able to understand your condition. Perhaps god had played a cruel joke on you, but ever since you can remember you've kept this secret from everyone else. Your greatest power, but possibly your achilles heel as well.

>Inventory:

+ Sigil of Flame

+ Crow (Craven)

+ Bird House (Crow-sized)

+ 25 copper

+ Iron Sword (Whitecastle)

+ Leather Armor (Whitecastle)

>Skills:

+ Haggling (4)

+ Housewifery (4)

+ Ungrateful (5)

+ Running (4)

+ Hand to Hand (8)

+ Intimidation (1)

+ Swordfighting (67)

+ Dueling (55)

+ Luck (8)

+ Mechanical Understanding (?) (16)

>Flaws:

+ [The Bird Issue] If somebody discovers your secret you are compelled to obey their commands in order for them not to reveal your terrible secret. This would not prevent you from killing them. Of course only if they specifically found out that you are a bird pretending to be human, not a human thinking he is a bird pretending to be human. The latter would be a ridiculous lie.

+ [Bird Talk] Sometimes you can't resist and just chirp along with the birds.

>Bonuses:

+ [The Phoenix Sigil] You are uncertain what it does, has to be some sort of riddle. Better be careful and don't destroy your family heirloom. Though if you could open it somehow, who knew what would be inside?

>Job:

+ Whitecastle Soldier ( 1 Silver / Turn)

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>>27272

"Hey, you! What do you think you're doing, dodging like that? What kind of a man are you? A real soldier takes his death with grace, even when given the possibility of survival! Not dying is for women and foreigners!"

Rolled 93, 28 = 121 (2d100)

>>27238

Name: Oo'ka B'aa

Fluff: A medicine man from a place to the southeast, where the hot sun watches over the Gazelle, the Lion, and the Elephant.

When he arrived believe him to be a giant, and in a sense they are correct.

The people of his region had skin dark as the bark of blackwood, and were already taller than the "pale men". But tribe were known as the Ae'bweya, in their language "The Tall Men" for their great height, towering over their own kin. They lived in a "castle" of stone and mud baked by the sun, on a great mound built by their ancestors long ago.

Perhaps this explains why ever since his arrival the only men he could speak to without looking down were on horse, and why he must bend his back to navigate the short roofs of the cold grey stone of the pale men.

With the Uhlmannen came the end of the tribe, they tore down the catles of their ancestors, and those who survived fled, as he did. Over great distances he lead them, seeking to flee the "Horse barbarians" as far as the ends of the world. And that's where they seem to have ended up in. A strange land, with strange people and strange tongues, and the sky is bitter and cold, and the nights long.

All they have left of their former life is held in the hands of Oo'ka B'aa, their greatest artifact, a chieftans great club of strange black metal.

Believed it to be magic, it given to them by by the first man of their family many generations ago, and legended that he wrested from the Pharaoh of the lands of sand, who himself was gifted it by the gods, for through generations it neither rusts nor tarnishes.

>Inventory:

[Black Steel Club] - The Cock of Osiris

+ 4 Healing Herbs

+ Some Sticks

+ Several Reefs

+ 1 Dose of Sedative

+ Rock

>Skills:

+ Construction (50)

+ Medicine (100)

+ Searching (6)

+ Hunting (1)

+ Blow-Dart-Using (1)

+ Club Fighting (3)

+ Toughness (3)

+ Lucky (2)

+ Hand to Hand (3)

>Flaws:

+ [Exotic] You are a rare sight. The guards will recognize you easily and people try to go out of your way. The church may also not approve what they believe to be your heathenous ways. People are generally inclined to trust you less.

>Bonuses:

+ [Giant] You are two heads taller than a normal man. You are considerably stronger than them as well, granting you a bonus in all things physical. Except for hiding of course.

>Holdings:

+ [Hidden Healing Hut] Your own comfortable clay hut which has an aura of mystery to it. The air is heavy with pollen from healing herbs, which will keep you and anybody living here healthy from most diseases. it can also heal you after you have already contracted them. Injury recovery is naturally sped up.

+ Turmhill Healer (1 Silver / Turn)

Money: 12 Copper, 5 Silver

1-2. All I need to do is find proof, somehow, that I was where I was at a certain time and that I was not at where they say this 'heretic' was.

I just. . .have to keep thinking. Surely there is someone who can vouch for my location?

Rolled 42, 67 = 109 (2d100)

>>27504

Name: Ophelia Nation

Fluff:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4JxChxvHrU

Ophelia is the model Lady, prim, proper, well mannered, and aloof. And like every Proper Lady she has a dark secret. Ophelia has been taken by the Occult, it fascinates her, the ideas of demons and aberrations existing sends shivers of excitement down her spine. It was not long before she was swept up by a Demonic Cult. Though Secretive and hard to Find they welcomed her into their ranks and her rise within them was rapid, some would say blessed by the very demons they worship. Though her position at the moment is tenuous due to the loss of home and fortune Ophelia is certain that she will keep her position and possibly find temporary housing within a cult member's estate.

Inventory:

+ The Black Tome of Nation

+Well Made Dress

>Home:

+ Von Pissen Residence

Skills:

+ Noble Customs (77)

+ Occult Knowledge (115)

Flaws:

- [Fascinated] Life as a proper lady is incredibly dull and sometimes you are perhaps a bit too excited about the various things you do that concern your cult. You feel the urge to share at least some of the things you know, may it be in sharing it over a cup of tea with a friend or giving ominous warnings to people. Beware you don't talk to much or someone might have to die.

+ [Orton] You hear voices in your head, they council you, they understand. They talk to you.

Bonuses:

+ [The Apocyan Sigil] You are a member of the Apocyan Sigil, a secret society devoted to uncovering the secrets surrounding demons and other evil spirits. While it mostly consists of nobles who want to be elitist in some form and enjoy the secrecy that goes along with the cult's practices the members of the upper circles remain unknown to you. You know various secret signs to identify cult members as well as the basic rituals associated with it.

Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Updates:

+Long

1. Well the first thing to discover is what was I given in exchange for their control over my own mouth, I highly doubt that it was the simple 'privilege' of their presence so I must have gained something else.

2. Second was to attempt to come to some form of agreement before we even attempt seeing other people that only I speak out loud in the presence of others no matter who they are, if the wrong ears hear then my life will be surely cut short, and if their existence is tied to my well being then it is in their best interests to prevent that from happening as much as possible.

Rolled 14, 93 = 107 (2d100)

>>27501

Name: Aethelric Nation

Fluff: After the Uhlmannen burned Nation castle and destroyed the livelihood of the noble family, Aethelric (Once a veritable social butterfly) became more withdrawn, sometimes disappearing from the group for long periods of time before returning, sometimes with new trinkets, and sometimes with whiskey on his breath. He has a weakness for alcohol, which causes problems at times. It’s generally a good idea to keep him away from bars. However, when consulted, he always seems to know the best vintages and batches from wineries and breweries across the land. So that’s a plus. Unfortunately, they’re almost all insanely expensive. So that’s a minus. He used to be proud of the noble blood that ran in his veins, but now it means little more to him than the clothes on his back, serving as a painful reminder of easier, happier times.

>Inventory:

+ 2x Finecraft Family Dagger

+ 5 Loaves of Bread

+ 7 Copper

+ 1 Almost full bottle of Whiskey

+ Document of Banking (19 Silver - The Juhs)

+ Scroll Case

+ Bill of Ownership - 12 Pigs (Whitecities)

>Skills:

+ Daggering (25)

+ Disguise (57)

+ Drinking (27)

+ Lying (3)

+ Sneaking (33)

+Stealing (2)

+ Alcohol Knowledge (25)

>Flaws:

+ [Alcoholic] You can hardly go without alcohol for more than a few hours before you start to get nervous. Longer periods of time without alcohol can grow into serious sickness, as well as concentration issues, vomiting, shivers etc.

>Bonuses:

+ [Second Liver] You have been drinking so much your tolerance has grown to incredible levels. While certainly this would not be healthy for any other human being you can easily outdrink most and will suffer much less from alcohol and some other sorts of poisoning.

+ [Poor Sod] People just naturally tend to feel sorry for you. This can come with some advantages if you don't mind being pitied a lot.

1. It's time for a quick lie: a smokescreen to prepare a more elaborate one. Who is this old man? He could be the owner of the library, but that leaves a gap wide open for bluff-calling and questioning, so no to that. Perhaps he is the owner's father? Even that would open him up to too many questions. At last, Aethelric comes upon a satisfactory excuse: "Thank you, so much, young lady. I'm so glad someone as kindhearted as you has decided to help me. You see, I was sitting and reading over… somewhere, and I fell asleep. I must have been quite well-hidden if you couldn't find me when you were locking up!" He knew, of course, that she didn't work there, and was probably just as much of an intruder as he, but people lose their train of thought when they have to explain themselves. In her case, she'll be put, unwittingly, on the verbal defensive. She will want to correct the old man, or will at least consider the pros and cons of lying to him about why she's here, and that will throw her enough to let him follow up with the line that will help him out of the predicament: "I'm sorry if it's too much to ask, but could you take my arm and show me the door? I think I may have left my walking stick outside, and I'm not as steady on my feet as I was when I was your age." If she takes his arm to help him out, he'll tremble a bit as he walks, and pause every now and again, apologizing profusely. When they finally get outside, he'll look around for his stick. If he miraculously finds one, he'll grab it. If not, he'll tell her that home isn't too far away, and he can make it on his own. Now, Aethelric is a naturally frugal person. While not exactly a miser, he finds it difficult to part with anything useful. However, after putting this poor girl through all this trouble, he wants to repay her. "Thank you so much, dear. Truly, God was in a caring mood when He created you. Here, take this." He will hand her 5 copper coins. "I'm afraid it's all I have on me right now, but…" Aethelric grins knowingly under the hood. "Perhaps you can find yourself more suitable accommodations. Finally, he hobbles away, until he can no longer see her, at which point, he begins to run. [Poor sod bonus, if applicable]

>>27513

The voices only "speak" inside of your head. People around you can't actually hear them unless you speak out yourself. Sorry if I didn't make that clear.

>>27533

4 Silver a turn not 20 yee boob. Also don't forget there's a guild tax of 20% which you can choose to pay or not to pay.

Rolled 96, 9 = 105 (2d100)

>>27499

Name: Aiska Nation

Fluff: Born with different eyes and hair, Aiska was presented to the "barbarians" at a very young age as a peace offering between our people. Raised as one of them, but always at an arms length, Aiska is almost unrecognizable between them. Quickly growing up to be one of their most talented soldiers, when news came that they had destroyed his lands and slaughtered his family, he quickly ran away from his trusty spear and went to the closest kingdom that would be fairly safe from his "family". Now, he seeks a new purpose in his life and career..

>Inventory:

+ Spear of Terenation

+ Fine Clothes

+[12 Silver; 2 Copper]

>Holdings:

+ Inn Room + Food (-2 Copper / Turn)

>Skills:

+ Polearms (100)

+ Riding (53)

+ Insults (4)

+ Dodge (15)

+ Intimidate (5)

+ Honor (5)

+ Scouting (10)

+ Charisma (5)

+ Stealth (13)

+ Whitecastle Respect (35)

>Job:

>Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Flaws:

+ [Unfortunate Past] Cursed being both hunted by the barbarians yet being almost indistinguishable from one you will have to take shit from both sides.

>Bonuses:

+ [A Woman's Scorn] Once your Spear was a family heirloom but ever since you have officially been married to the Warchief's daughter she cared for it with all her heart. And even the men on the far side of the Barbarian's empire know, love is a force to be reknogned with. Now that you left her behind who knows what that means for the spear.

(Give me long post actually now pls)

1-2; Hmmmmmmm, yes I better tell the captain or major or whoever I talked to earlier about how the mission went. I'm sure he knows but he'll want to hear it from me. Then, I better train my Spearwork before heading to a blacksmith to find out about armor prices

>>27511

"I suppose I'm not a true man, then… Besides, you could call me a foreigner since I'm not from here. I'm not a soldier, anyways, so what does it matter to you?"

Rolled 15, 10 = 25 (2d100)

>>27513

>>27532

New actions

1. Discover what exactly the book means by surrendering control, am I still able to move the parts I have surrendered myself or am I unable to use that part anymore

2. if I am still able to use the part I have surrendered control of find out what price the ability to tell if someone is lying would cost me. Otherwise research the book for accounts of people who have been Shadowbound if there are any, I do not wish to make their mistakes.

>>27566

"Not a soldier? All that fighting you were doing certainly seemed like soldier work to me! It matters to me because, as a proud defender of our great city, I want to be sure that everyone is doing their best to uphold Weisstadt values and defending them! You just need to learn how to rush headlong into a fight with zero regard for safety and strategy, like a proper warrior! Luckily, I'm a master at that, and I can teach you."

Rolled 16, 80 = 96 (2d100)

>>27500

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 33 copper

+ 16 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (64)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (56)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (7)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (20)

+ Shield Tactics (12)

+ Gather Information (5)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)

Flaws: + [Greedy] You have a hard time letting go of gold, people you have to pay do not appreciate this.

+ [Lustful +] You like a good tumble, this comes with some expertise in the area. Women find it hard to resist you however the feeling is mutual. Be careful not to hurt the ones you love.

Bonuses: [Wielder of the Dragon Fang] Your weapon is your father's blade. It is not magic, only a fool would believe that, but if handled right the blade dances almost as if alive, sneaking past scales of armor and cutting deep into enemy flesh. You've also never cut yourself on this one before.

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [Good Samarithan] You're a good guy and the ladies dig it.

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Update- Long

1. Go back to the Turmhill grounds and continue training the men.

2. Do a practice run for my skills with the men. Sword training, multiple of them vs me.

Rolled 90, 63 = 153 (2d100)

>>27496

Name: Eric Nation

Fluff: Eric is a tall and lanky young man, standing a full head's length above your average person. Not that you'd notice it. Ever since his birth He's just sort of blended into the background. People see him, they just don't recognize he's actually there. Many times in his life he's walked up to people in full view and nearly given the heart attacks by speaking to them. It's not something he does with intent, it's just that he's so unassuming and unimportant in most people's minds they don't recognize him being there. The fact he was also 7th born son to his father, along with his own nature of being beneath notice meant his schooling in matters politic and in arms was lacking. However when the invasion came he was handy enough with his Grandfather's dagger to surprise and kill several soldiers before ditching his clothes for peasants rags and blending into the horde of refuges fleeing the land.

>>Inventory

+ Grandfather's Ornate Dagger (Sharpened)

+ Grandfather's Dagger (No Ornament, Flawless Copy)

+ Plain Clothes (in closet)

+ Servants Clothing (wearing)

+ 167 Copper

+ Lilith's Iron Flower

>>Skills:

+ Spotting (2)

+ Daggering (38)

+ Noble Customs (62)

+ Sneaking (43)

+ Stealing (6)

+ Running (58)

+ Haggling (6)

+ Climbing (3)

>Flaws:

+ [Forgettable] You were made to be forgotten. While guards will often forget your face and you can get lost in large crowds easily this is horrible for heroic speeches, begging or finding true love.

+ Enemy [Blueberry Tom]

>Bonuses:

+ [Unassuming] You are rarely accused of doing anything, largely because people don't care or expect you to have done anything. Also bonus to sneaking

>Job

+ Servant(Spy) - Whitecastles (15 Copper / Turn)

Patron Sir Alistair

>Holdings:

+ House near Market (4 rooms) - Owned

>Updates:

+ Long

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

1. Report what I saw to Lord Alistair and ask of him what should take priority, since I can work either place easily enough.

2. Go to do the job he bids.

>>27533

>>27535

FOR FUTURE SELF:

>41 Silver, 5 copper

>Income is 3 Silver, 2 copper per turn (Taking out guild tax)

Rolled 48, 48 = 96 (2d100)

>>27502

>>27503

Name: Sigurd Nation

Fluff: Sigurd is the oldest surviving member of the once-grand Nation family, father to many of it's strongest children and at one point a greatly-respected man for his rational judgement and skill at arms - and he had it all taken away in an instant. Few of his children still breathe, his house lies in financial and popular ruin and one of his eyes was burned to uselessness, making even combat difficult for the aging man. His brothers and sisters all lie missing or dead as well, and taking care of their children and re-assembling the great house of Nation from it's ashes has fallen onto his shoulders. Perhaps the most shameful thing to him was the loss of his grand blade and armor, things he desperately seeks back.

>Inventory:

+ Ancestor's Pendant

+ Fancy Clothes

+ Fancy Hat

+ 16 Silver

+ Noble Iron Sword

+ Great Book of Catacombs and Sewagery (and knowledge)

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (67)

+ Leadership (28)

+ Searching (2)

+ Luck (1)

+ Sneaking (3)

+ Charisma (10)

+ Searching (13)

+ Faith (4)

+ Running (4)

>Holdings:

+ House in Nice Part of Town (2 rooms) - Owned

+ [The Black Labyrinth] You know the ins and outs of the sewers. You know how to get in and out of the city unseen, if not necessarily unsmelled.

>Job:

+ Charles Whitecity - Swordtrainer (3 Silver / Turn)

>Flaws:

+ [Aging] You become older every year and slowly your skill at arms begins to degrade. The guilt and ridicule do nothing to improve the situation. It's only rubbing more salt into old wounds.

Post preference: As long as makes sense for fluff given.

1: As much as I would like to investigate this bizarre cult, there are far more pressing matters to both the city and my house at the moment. Most importantly, the ever-rising threat of the Uhlmanen. Then again, perhaps these people can offer important aid or information. It is worth investigating, and I have both coin and trinkets to trade if needed. I will explore this Serpant cult as much as needed, and find out what it - and this woman - is.

2: After this business is done, I must seek to gather the family once more. So scattered and disparate, with every single member involved only in their own affairs - if we are to stand against the barbarian horde this time, we must be singular and organized, and that means the collection of even those who refuse to collect.

>>27688

czeched

Rolled 13, 47 = 60 (2d100)

>>22643

Name: Bartholomew Nation

Fluff: Bartholomew Nation is a very pious man. He had been raised to be the realms next religious leader, but that was before the heathens invaded. Their desecrated our holy sites and spat upon God. As their lands burned around him Bartholomew swore vengeance. He took upon himself the role of an Avenger of God by claiming the holy relic and set off to distant lands. One day he shall return and he would have his revenge.

>Inventory:

+ Priest Robe

+ Scythe of Vengeance

>Skills:

+ Influence [The Second Line] (40)

+ Scythe Fighting (57)

+ Preaching (55)

+ Zeal (36)

+ Intimidation (5)

+ Faith Knowledge (10)

+ Whipping (10)

-Children (11)

- Small Talk (5)

>Flaws:

+ [Wrath] You are a rather angry person and have a quick temper whenever it comes to things unholy.

>Bonuses:

+ [One True God] You find easy acceptance amongst the clergy. They will harbor you and care for you as you are faith incarnate. You will of course be expected to do some good deeds for the church from time to time. The poor and broken also flock to you as they see redemption in following your path.

>Job

+ Church Candle Lighter (1 Copper / Turn)

>Other:

+ Donations to the Orphanage (13 Copper) (+1 each turn, costs 1 Copper per turn)

>Updates:

+ Long

1. Bartholomew continues to rally support for the Second Line from the church. Only now he focuses more on the elder members, the venerated priests and resident bishop. They had not shown much support thus far, nor had they been opposed. It was time to find out if any of them supported the defense of this city against the heathens, Sinners, and Barbarians.

+ Influence [The Second Line] (40) + Preaching (55) + Zeal (36)

2. Afterwards Bartholomew will brush up on his knowledge of the resident faith, their Holy Book has different verses and passages. As if it had developed different in this far off land. It would serve him well to know what God has told these people. Specifically, is there any mention of the Scythe of Vengeance in this holy book?

>>27571

"Edmund Nation, son of Osmund Nation, scion of the Weisstadt Nations, though my mother was a Pillory. But enough of that! A Nation man never refuses a caw- a call of challenge! Let us spar!"

>>27701

"Nation, eh.. HMPH lets see if your kung fu can defeat me! HYAH!

>>27509

"As much as I'd love to smack you on the ass and groan loudly for the amusement of a basement full of drunk horny bastards I'm sadly not here for you, Juh.", she said turning away from the bar as she got up and walked towards you, while muscular she was a bit smaller than you, halting only a few inches from your face.

"If you really want to do something you can put that big loud mouth of yours to good use and go find some real fighters. God knows the nobles aren't going to protect us when the Uhlmannen come scaling those walls.", you felt the ground shake a little as behind you someone or something entered the room. A little nervous you turned around and looked up.

The man, if you could call him that, who had apparently been waiting in some side room you were yet to discover was easily two heads taller than you, perhaps even three. A weird attire made from what you assumed to be jute was spanning over his freakishly muscular body, his throat marked a gruesome looking scar.

"You've had your fun Gary.", she said with an eyeroll which led the Ogre of a man to grin and slowly walk towards the exit, he was missing a few teeth though you didn't want to know what happened to whomever was responsible for knocking them out. "Gary is sort of our mascot. Some Easterner cunt cut up his throat but it only made him stronger. A right ogre that man.", she said in what had to be a mix of pity and admiration while he disappeared up the stairs.

"Either way missy I heard you apparently impressed someone, that or I'm mistaking you. Anyway if you think you can do more than wiggle around with that butt be sure to head upstairs. Signup for the Ratwater Guard is running. And before you ask: no. It doesn't pay, nobody will thank you for it and you will probably get insulted on a daily basis. That's the offer. Take it or leave it.".

>Skills:

+ Girl Talk (3)

>>28850

>>27510

(I'm unsure whether you have been adding your income, check back a few turns and if necessary make adjustments to your income count)

They were both able and willing to make use of their swords, but for every Whitecastle soldier you considered a veteran there were two more who acted like they had never held a weapon in their life before. Farmhands, servants and whomever else could be found had made it into the ranks of the castle guard, no doubt they would find themselves out of a job the moment this siege was over. Not far away a tall man in well crafted armor was sparring with a man dressed in equally well made armor, he was of a slim built and clearly lacked the touch of war. The castle's courtyard was bursting with people, quite frankly you were hard pressed to eplain where all of them were coming from, naturally many of them were refugees but still.

Your own training proceeded uneventfully, exchanging blows with the more experienced fighters you slowly became more proficient, though you couldn't say that any great breakthroughs were achieved, certainly once you came into real combat once more you would learn a great many things about yourself. If you were to survive of course, however as you scanned your surroundings you came to the conclusion that there were a lot of other people who needed to be a whole lot more concerned about the making it out alive part.

Far more interesting than any progress in your martial abilities however was the Phoenix Sigil's nature. After having been in your posession for years it turned out that a number of soldiers had come into contact with such a sigil before. They were technological masterpieces and none of the men fully comprehended their function, however they were used by the Phoenix Knights of Krahe.

"The Islands of Krahe are a small group of islands in the warm sea.", one of the soldiers elaborated marking it on a little world map he had drawn into the dirt before you, "They are scarcely populated however there is a huge Phoenix struck into the cliffs of its central island. A huge thing, no way you could miss it, never seen anything like it either. Atop of the phoenix's head is the castle, they call it "the Crown". Its guarded by women dressed in black armor with pikes and helmets with beaks on them. The guy who rules the castle, forgot his name, has a personal guard of mean motherfuckers, they're called the Phoenix Knights.".

The man picked your sigil up from the ground looking at you, as you showed no explicit objection he proceeded, "They put the sigils up to their chest.", he did as he said, "And then they do something with it. Don't exactly know what, but a spike comes out and then it sticks to them.", the sentence prompted you to look closer which made you notice that he was careful not to hold the sigil too close to himself.

"That's when they light on fire.", he said handing you the sigil back, "They just throw themselves at the enemy. Torch ships and men alike. Scariest shit I've seen in my entire life. Every pirate immediately turns tail when they see as much as a red helmet.", he got up from where you had been sitting, "Though they do usually wait until things look gloomy to do it. I suppose you never do get used to the idea of lighting yourself on fire.".

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (2)

+ Mechanical Understanding (4)

>Adjust Bonus:

+ [The Phoenix Sigil] Used by the Phoenix Knights of Krahe the Phoenix Sigil is only used by the most fearsome warriors to light themselves on fire for all its benefits and downsides.

>>28851

>>27512

Stunned you stared as your alibi was being detained. There were few ways this could have gone worse. You needed to think of someone who could prove your innocence. Perhaps one fo the man who had seen you fight the Uhlmannen Spearman? Perhaps the man himself? But how would you find him now? Certainly he had either long left the city or been chased out. And what proof would a fight that hardly lasted a few minutes have been anyway? Your hut in the forest? Now what could that vouch for?

"What are you going to do now?", the question could have well been directed at you, however it was just two nearby merchants talking, "I will just go down to the new apothecary, I heard he helped Turmhill out a great deal, whatever is good enough for that rich oligarch is good enough for me?", "Do you even know what that means?", another voice questioned, a short silence left you believing someone was shrugging, "Either way, he may be exotic but he has worked wonders before. I just need someone to rid me of this rash before my wife and her brother come back into town.".

Aside from the fact that the man's wife would most likely not be making it in time for the Uhlmannen siege their discussion had it's interesting point none the less. Another apothecary, one that was apparently exotic in some way shape or form was certainly in your interest. From what you were accused of this could very well be the works of a Black Shaman.

"Wrong apothecary.", you said as the man was being dragged away in chains. Asking the man for the way it didn't take you long in order to find the store you were looking for: "The Golden Cure". Just as you were about to enter a small group of Turmhill soldiers left, "Think about the offer Healer Urok. Turmhill will be expecting your answer soon.". Before the door closed you and your companion could clearly see the black man behind the counter. One of the Turmhill's even gave you a quick nod, you had bandaged a cow bite of his in the past.

Needless to say Andrew was at a loss for words. You had disproven that you were the only one who could have done it and he had no proof that it had been you in the first place, quite simply for the fact that you hadn't committed any crimes. No matter how much you enjoyed your victory though you couldn't help but have a bad feeling. Something about that apothecary just wasn't quite right.

(player interactions are free) -> Note exception being Nation Family meeting

>Skills:

+ Lucky (5)

>>28852

>>27514

Your plan worked out quite well, even as a poor sod you had retained your lying noble ways, a farmer's girl stood no chance to resist your elaborate construct of deception that could surely have fooled even suspicious minds. As you looked back over your shoulder one last time before you hobbled around the nearest corner you looked upon the girl who was still standing in the library's entrance, staring down onto her hand in which five copper coins silently rested.

The moment you stepped around the corner you shed your disguise, surely she would do her best to follow you and ask some sort of existential question, however with long steps and a hurting head you were already making your way down the street as fast as you could. With great effort you managed to cut a corner up ahead just in time to look back onto the girl as she stepped up to where you had been only moments ago, a confused look on her face. Narrowly avoided.

"You think Turmhill is part of the league?", instinctively you slipped back into the shadows as a group of men passed, swords were dangling on their waists, all of them were wearing typical leather armor, however instead of the Whitecity, -castle or Turmhill symbols they bore no sigil at all, "Naturally. Everything the crown does is leech of the prosperity of the merchants. The people continue to grow richer and more powerful while the nobles only grow idle and fat. No wonder Turmhill would want to get rid of them.". Another man slapped the one who just talked on the back of his head, "You shouldn't listen to every woman you fuck.", the others laughed as he looked onto the ground with an awkward smile.

Silently you followed them through the street skipping from cover to cover, "So who is this guy?", "Don't know, some rider from the capital.", "So why do we kill him?", "Because the guy who paid us wants him dead.", "If we know so little then why do we know where he is?". The small group stopped, "Because our guy told us he was in the 'Drunk Nobleman', seriously what is up with you today?"

Some bickering ensued, however you weren't listening anymore. Apparently some capital rider had arrived in the capital some time ago and now someone was planning to murder him. But why? Evidently the men hired to do the job did not have all the answers, however now you did know that he was in the 'Drunk Nobleman'.

You gave the guys another look, of course they were bickering like washerwomen but the way they carried themselves and their oddly mixed accents led you to believe that these were no ordinary street thugs. They were mercenaries, the street thug's well travelled and experienced cousin. More importantly perhaps they were also a lot more expensive, whomever wanted this man dead had money to spare. That or he really wanted the guy dead.

>Skills:

+ Kindness (1)

+ Lying (3)

+ Sneaking (3)

>Inventory:

- 5 Copper

>>28853

>>27531

"Sir I believe we should sally forth and meet the Uhlmannen in open battle.", you say, slamming your hand onto the table for emphasis, Turmhill a small somewhat fat man with a kind face looked up to you from his seat. For a moment he looked at your more than determined face, then with a sigh he opened one of his secretary's drawers. What he pulled forth was a little book which he then demonstratively opened before you, it was filled with countless numbers and names.

"Each of my Lieutenants of which there are twenty, you being one of them of course, is in control of three groups of twelve men each. In total I employ 740 armed guards which already includes my lieutenants and while it already is an exorbitant expense I have undertaken additional steps in order to obtain the support of further armed elements within the city.", from within his little book he pulled a piece of paper unfolding it before you, it was signed by several people a number of waxen seals gracing its surface.

"What only a handful of people despite you and I know is that this piece of paper ensures me of the 'loyalty' of roughly 800 more individuals. While not officially known this means that in conclusion I am in command of 1540 men.", putting aside the piece of paper and folding his hands Turmhill looked you directly in the eye, "While this is in my humble opinion an army unsuited for any mere merchant facing the Uhlmannen forces in open battle would be..", for a moment he stopped. You could tell that something was going on behind the scenes as Turmhill's hand slipped in front of his mouth, his fingers drumming onto his secretary, ".. a matter of honor.", he almost whispered in some sort of sudden realization.

Quickly your employer put together a bunch of maps that had been spread across his table, there were markings of all the city's towers and gatehouses, no doubt he had spent much time preparing the defense of the city. "And interesting idea for sure!", he agreed to you with new found enthusiasm, "But of course we will need to convince both the Whitecastles and the Whitecitys to support us in this undertaking.", for a moment he stopped shoving about paper and looked at you again, "As a merchant they would never accept any of my suggestions, but if one found out that the other was going to sally forth? They would have no choice but to do so themselves.".

"You have family right? Surely if they would be able to plant the suspicion that the other noble house was planning to sally forth?", mhm. Your family. And what a topic that was. Sure you had a number of relatives working on all sides of the conflict, safe the Uhlmannen hordes of course, but would they do as you asked? Of course it was in the city's interest and they would surely not be able to resist your charms right? "Still we would be outnumbered.", Turmhill said with a sudden frown overshadowing his good mood, "I don't have exact figures but I believe it is safe to say that our own cannot compare to the numerous hordes of the East. What we need is..", "A secret weapon.", you interrupted Turmhill who looked at you with a hint of confusion, "Don't worry Sir, I've got you covered.".

With the Uhlmannen already proceeding to encircle the city only little wood could be collected safely in order to get to work on the War Wagons, however the artisans Turmhill paid off assured you that five War Wagons would be ready and prepared for whenever you would need them.

>Skills:

+ Charisma (5)

>Troops:

+ 3x 12 Turmhill Soldiers (includes Wikiver)

+ 5 War Wagons

>>28854

>>27533

Even though you did get a pretty bad rep from most people because of your ominous personality and bad habit of reading from the entrails of still living beings you were interested in finding a way of curing the effects of Kak'sse. It was quite a challenge for sure, after all Kak'sse wasn't a poison per se. Now that you thought about it, trying to cure Kak'sse was pretty much like trying to cure someone who had drunk too much ale. Of course there were a number of things you could do to make him feel better and occasionally if one had your expertise a life could even be saved from the brink of death, however in the long run it was always the addict who returned to the habit.

With a sigh you looked onto the flower that lay before you. At least they looked nice. You couldn't help but wonder for how long these flowers had simply been left alone until one unfateful day someone had discovered their secret. Now they were illegal of course. In the city posession and distribution were persecuted depending on the guilt from loosing one's hand to loosing one's head. One of the reasons the criminals of the city used young girls to obtain their flowers. Punishment for them usually involved a lot less loosing of body parts, still it was no pleasure for them to be caught in the act either, beatings and sometimes even lashes were common occurances.

You decided it was time to ditch the flower for now and spend your time on doing something worthwhile instead, like trying to find somebody sufficiently trustworthy to guard you and your new fortune. However as you walked through the dirty streets of Weissstadt's slums you soon discovered that there was a little problem with that. While certainly there had been a number of individuals up to the task within the city in light of recent events noble families had been running a recruitment drive that saw most able bodied men employed with either the city or castle guard. The way you saw it you would either have to outspend them by a significant amount or settle for the kind of people that hadn't made it through recruitment.

"You look like you could need a hand.", a raspy voice murmured from the shadows in an unmistakably nasal Western accent. Stopping in the middle of the street you turned your head to the side, focusing your gaze on the small alleyway in which a man was leaning. He had short bright grey hair and piercing green eyes, his face was scarred by what you assumed were many years of fighting. His left hand was holding a pipe which he smoked casually as he fixated you. Curiously enough no sword was hanging on his hip, though he did wear some sort of leather armor beneath what looked like largely common clothing. "They call me la Main and for just a silver a day I can make all of your worries go away mon amie.".

A silver a day certainly was within the upper price class for street scum, it was what both the Whitecastles and the Whitecitys paid their new recruits. Then again there had to be some reason why la Main was not employed by either of them. Apparently you had been weighing the pro's and cons for quite some time as apparently the guy had better things to do than wait for your decision, "You think about it.", he said, slowly walking down the alleyway puffing on his pipe.

Of course you tried your luck with a few more people, however in the end most ended up hardly living up to your standards. Walking around the slums you heard something about the Ratwater Guard apparently some form of organization that was aiming to defend the slums from whatever the siege was going to bring Uhlmannen and all. They were sort of like the Second Line, just with a lot less religious frevour and a lot more criminal records.

In the end you returned to your store, the day had been of rather questionable success. Here and there a few more people came into your shop looking for all sorts of things to cure their little ailments. Of course all of them lacked even the most basic understanding of medical practice, but you resisted the temptation of toying with them in favor of keeping their coin instead. Your last patient had been a youngling with a rash on his cock, of course he had given you a story about he had seduced the most beautiful of girls but you knew full well where that kind of rash came from.

(1/2)

>>28855

(2/2)

Just as he was about to leave the door was pushed open and the youngling was forced back inside by a handful of soldiers entering your now crowded store. Katze who had been sleeping quietly on your counter decided it was best to retreat into the back room, while an awkward back and forth ensued as the boy tried to get past the armed men towards the exit, a futile attempt which ended with him quietly cowering in a corner. The leader of the group who had been less than entertained by the little ordeal that had just taken place turned to you with a sigh. "Maxim Turmhill has sent me.".

Of course, you had seen those sigils before, the tower on the hill. You had saved his son's life, though it had been a couple of weeks at least. "In light of recent events Turmhill is in search of trustworthy individuals, he believes that given your history you are well suited for a position as his personal advisor in the months to come. Should you decide to take up the offer you will of course be compensated accordingly, monetarily and otherwise.".

One of the soldiers had already opened the door again. ""Think about the offer Healer Urok. Turmhill will be expecting your answer soon.", the leader of the group adressed you once more, before leaving the store. A both unexpected and short visit for certain.

>Skills:

+"Alternative Healing Methods" (3)

+ Searching (3)

>Choice:

You can choose to accept or refuse La Main's services. Should you choose to accept add the following:

>Bodyguard:

+ La Main (-1 Silver / Turn)

>>28856

>>27563

What had his name been again? For a few moments you tried to remember, but in the end you simply gave up, after all it wasn't like you had to introduce him to anyone of importance. Looking around the courtyard you noticed that there had been a vast influx of people. Certainly many of them had been training outside of the city gates, however after the Uhlmannen had begun to surround the city they had been forced to continue their training within the walls. Many of them wouldn't be prepared when the Uhlmannen began their attack.

Squeezing your way through the lines of people waiting for their turn on the training fields you headed towards the castle. A century old building which had held up quite nicely. Certainly whomever had been in charge had always been vigilant for the castle's defenses to remain in top shape, one of the few benefits of sharing a city with your mortal enemy. The search did not take you very long as you quickly located the man you were looking for near the castle entrance where he was waiting in his impecably crafted armor alongside a much less impressive individual.

Your report was short and precise, of course you left out the reports of your wife, the man did not need to know anything about your personal matters and leaving out such a minor detail made little impact in the grand scheme of things. He was impressed with your work to say the least, apparently he had already been informed by the returning men, still he insisted on giving you a monetary reward which you were not reluctant to accept.

From the looks of it he wanted to address you another time and ask you a question, however he was quickly called of by some guard which required his guidance in a matter of "utmost urgency". Aside from a lucky coincidence to spare you any questions that required you to recall minor details you couldn't be arsed to remember this also let you in on the fact that his name was actually Ulrich and that he was apparently in charge of Whitecastle forces, which you already knew.

Now blessed with some more money in your pocket you squeezed past the people waiting in line, you were uncertain whether it was still or again, leaving the castle through the gaping maw that was its drawbridge, making your way down into the city. Being fully aware that any blacksmith would be more than occupied with creating weapons and armor for the various noble houses which had paid them off you decided to go look for the black market instead.

The streets in the slums were smelly as they had always been, piss was still flowing in a small river towards the grates which led down into the sewers. For a moment you were worried that your fine clothing could adapt the stench of this unfortunate part of the city.

"I'd recognize one of you filthy fucks anywhere!", you heard a full voice sound over to you from across the street, prompting you to turn around, a farmer four other miscreants came towards you, "You can put a dress on a pig but it will still look like a disgusting Uhlmann!". Even though he was annoying and way out of line, the man did speak some truth.

>Inventory:

+ 10 Silver

>Skills:

+ Whitecastle Respect (5)

>>28857

>>27567

(I've been playing around with different 8chan features to try and make more clear which voice is speaking at what point, if it gets too burdening to read just give me a shout and I will go back to the old ways)

There sure was a lot of stuff written about surrendering control, but what did that actually mean? " Doesn't matter you shouldn't be dealing with this anyway. ", you scolded yourself, then again you had spent most of your still young life dabbling in the occult, " Why would you stop now that you are so close? Is this not what you have always wanted? ", the deep voice echoed through your thoughts. Was this what you had wanted when you first got your hand onto the book all those years ago?

" Don't let him intimidate you into doing something you are going to regret. ", you reminded yourself. " Something you do not want? I was under the impression this was exactly what you wanted. ". Quickly the old pages sprung past as your fingers elegantly moved them in an almost fluid movement. Something had to be here. An explanation, elaboration, anything. It wasn't like Bello had been to shy of making lengthy descriptions in the past.

Another page and another passed by when you suddenly stopped. In disbelief your fingers ran over the smooth pitch black surface that was the next page. " I have always preferred personal experience over biased reports anyway. ", " This is your doing isn't it? ", " I did not blacken the pages while you were not looking, if that is what you are implying. ".

As the voices in your head continued to accuse one another of various ploys and misinformation you instead marveled the mystery that was the black page. How could you possibly not have noticed it the first time you skipped through the book? " Obviously he did it. ". Of course that was one option. Then again how would he have done it without you noticing? " In my experience a good way to start is by letting me help you with your eyes. ", an surprisingly kind tone had taken a hold of the voice sending an uncomfortable cold shiver down your spine, " And if I don't like what I see I can always just tear my eyes out, right? ".

A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Once the book was sufficiently hidden you opened the door fixing your hair. Von Pissen had been waiting on the other side, his long white beard ended half way down his chest, past it you could see a set of clothing he had apparently been holding in his hand this entire time. He opened his mouth. " Think about my offer. ", for a few moments you blinked at Von Pissen who looked back at you expectantly. A few seconds passed as you just silently looked at each other, then he offered you the clothing, "We are going to meet with the other members of the Apocyan Sigil.", Von Pissen apparently repeated himself, "Of course we wouldn't want to be noticed. It is quite a secure location still.".

It took you a few minutes to get out of the dress and into the commoner's clothing Von Pissen had presented you with. While not particularly comfortable you had gotten used to wearing low quality clothing when you escaped from your homeland. Unpleasantries aside you were looking forward to meeting the other members of the Sigil, you couldn't help but wonder how much power they had gathered already. There was a good chance they would be your key to restoring the Nation family back to its former glory.

Von Pissen led you down a complex path away from the house towards the slums. You had avoided this part of town by immediately seeking out a member of the Apocyan Sigil when you first arrived, most others however had not been as lucky. The streets were filled with scum and refugees though you were really quite uncertain where to draw the line.

In a rather surprising move Von Pissen pulled you into a burnt out building. A number of refugees had taken up camp here though your Occult Accomplice paid them no mind, quickly seeking out a hatch that had been somewhat hidden under the rubble. Letting out a heavy sigh he pulled it open, revealing an underground pathway. "Not a place fit for a..", Von Pissen looked around, now eyeing the other people who were slowly gaining an interest on whatever was going on, "for you, but I suppose it is the only way.".

(1/2)

>>28858

(2/2)

You descended down into the pathway which turned out to be a sewage system. A large river of shit was flanked by two relatively small and unnervingly slippery walkways. One hand on Von Pissen's back you were busy not slipping while following him through the darkness that was only enlightened by his torch. Somewhere between the old sickly greenish brickwork you noticed the image of a large snake, it was incredibly crude and looked like a child's drawing, however it had been carved into the stone. In order for it to be this clear it would have taken immense strength or many hours of work. " The Realm of the Serpent King. ", " Shouldn't it be the Serpent God? ", " He is no more god than I am. ".

For a moment Von Pissen turned around, "You doing okay back there?", "Aside from the smell I'm doing fine.", you quickly responded, clearing your had you noticed that you had been burying your fingernails into Von Pissen's shoulder, "Oh, sorry.". "The first time down here is always a bit scary.", Von Pissen opened, beginning to boast about his long standing experience, you on the other hand had your eyes focused on the water. It was completely still.

"And who might those fellows be?", Von Pissen asked with what sounded like genuine interest. " Obviously they're going to be members of the Apocyan Sigil. " you thought to yourself before you peeked the corner Von Pissen was staring past. With little concern you shoved yourself past him and looked into what seemed to be a surprisingly well lit room, it was circular with a sealing that could have easily fit five acrobats below it immediately making you question at what point you traveled this far down as this was considerably higher than the ladder you had first used to gain access.

Yet it was neither the well placed lighting or the fact that there was a large open room like this that really caught your attention. Much more curious was the group of men who were spread throughout it. They all wore pelts and funny hats, carrying spears you would recognize anywhere in the world. These men were from the Eastern Tribes, it must have been decades since they had been subdued by the Uhlmannen in their relentless push West. What were they doing here?

You turned back to Von Pissen and softly pushed him out of the entrance and back into the smelly corridor you had come out of. Looking over his shoulder you noticed the tiny ripples that were softly emerging in the water, they must had been coming from somewhere beyond the enlightened area.

>Inventory:

+ Commoner's Clothing

>Skills:

+ Disguise (2)

>>28859

>>27608

When you returned to train with your men you soon realized that perhaps your training had not bore as much fruit as you had initially hoped. While you did fare quite well against a number of your men swinging your Dragon Fang in ferocious precision they on the other hand acted rather clumsily.

In the end their display was quite disappointing and you couldn't help but feel concerned for the times to come. They would have to perform much better if the city was to prevail. Still your deeds had apparently not gone entirely unnoticed as a middle aged woman in Turmhill armor approached you from the shadows.

"And how long may you have been waiting there.", you took initiative though she was quick to get to the point, "Turmhill wants to know if you can be trusted. Come.". Without any conversation you followed her, ordering your men to shape up while you were following around whomever this was.

As you made your way through various back alleys you really came to think about how much trust you were already putting into the Turmhill sigil. It was not like it was particularly hard to steal one of these. Certainly it had happened at least five times before and the potential damage one could cause by simply disguising as a member of the Turmhill guards? Enough to set the whole city on fire with nothing more than a days work certainly.

The streets grew smaller and the faint smell of piss and shit stronger. Clearly you had entered the slums. This was where the criminals and the refugees came, those unable and unwilling to do an honest day's work. Surely there were good reasons why those who spent their time here were not in the employ of any of the major nobles. And of course one popular merchant.

She pointed over to two young orphans in ragged clothing, a boy and a girl. "Those two. Kill them. Pay Turmhill a visit when the job is done.". Before she left she turned her head one last time addressing you over her shoulder, "Proof will not be necessary. Trust is part of the deal. Remember that I have found them before. And I will again.". With that she was off. Leaving you with more questions than answers and a task that was unpleasant to say the least.

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (3)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (2)

>>28860

>>27616

Lord Alistair swiftly and shortly informed you about the nature of the riders, who had apparently been a raiding party led by one of his son's most able men, which was also how you obtained the information that the man in charge of Whitecastle forces was apparently Lord Alistair's eldest son Ulrich "the Bear" and not as you would have initially expected Lord Whitecastle himself. The more Western adaption of the name Ulric no doubt.

However he proved a lot more interested in the rider, calmly urging you to go about your duty and obtain as much information as possible. A diplomat as you had described him would no doubt attempt to sway someone within the city to lend support to an outside faction, bringing an offer, a threat or potentially even both. Either way since that offer had been received by the Whitecastles it was a danger not to be taken lightly.

Proceeding to take up your last lead on the rider you made your way to the church in your at least somewhat unsuspicious attire of a servant, quickly climbing the stairs which led up the hill. Refugees were everywhere mostly sleeping out in the opening, spending their time in whatever ways they knew, many going as far as to gamble on holy ground, an impudent action which god frowned upon no doubt.

The Cathedral door had been left open as people frequently entered and exited the building. Quickly you slipped past into the old building, your gaze wandering up towards the beautiful stoneworks which were majestically towering over the hectic activities that took place beneath their patient gaze.

Your size allowed you to easily overlook the situation, though it only made things marginally better. As your view glided over the endless sea of faces you suddenly struck an eerily empty spot, the altar was almost void of people with a single notable exception. You immediately recognized him. Bartholomew Nation, the embodiment of the faith back at home. With a large Scythe hanging over his back clad in the humble clothing of a priest it certainly didn't seem like much had changed.

Forcing your way through the crowd you closed in on the altar which was when you noticed that somebody else had joined Bartholomew in the fray. The rider whom you had been tracking stepped up to him. Eagerly you got even closer, careful not to breach the ring that had formed around the altar, yet staying close enough to listen in on the conversation.

"Forgive my intrusion.", the diplomat addressed your (your family relation to Bartholomew here), "I come bearing an offer from the Capital.". The hair on your neck began to stand up, apparently the predictions had been correct, "It would seem that the noble families of Whitecastle and Whitecity have fallen silent when asked to support the crown. This silence has not gone unnoticed and while certainly it may be due to the circumstances they currently find themselves in their decision matters little.".

The diplomat made a short pause trying to read Bartholomew's facial expression no doubt, his face was so emotionless had he been made from stone he could have been one of the cathedral's statues. "Regardless of the decisions they make Weissstadt and Weissburg have found themselves in an unnecessary struggle against one another for far too long. A situation that is both against their own interest and that of the crown.".

The man took a deep breath, clearly unnerved by Bartholomew's lack of response, you surely would have made a better fit for a diplomat, "This is why our new and rightful King has bestowed upon me the opportunity to extend to you an offer of mutual allegiance just like in the times of old. A joint support between Church and Crown that would see the rightful Bishopric of White Mountain restored, returning the Weissstadt and Weissburg both to the orderly rule of the faith. Which would of course see you appointed as the new Bishop. Arch-Bishop even if you so wanted.".

>Skills:

+ Spotting (3)

+ Sneaking (3)

+ Disguise (2)

>>28861

>>27691

Gathering the support of elder priests and the local bishop were vital in your efforts to achieve a unified church front against those who would attempt to sack the city. It was the next priest you came across who informed you that the Weissstadt had not been housing a bishop for more than fifty summers now. The last cathedral head Bishop Puritas had called for a cleansing of the city's nobles and had subsequently been executed by them. After Puritas' attempted revolution no new Bishops were anointed and the bishopric de facto seized to exist.

Of course this was anything but what you had expected when you had first laid eyes upon the marvel of architecture that was the grand cathedral of the Weissstadt. Besides these commoners were far more devout than any others you had seen, something extraordinary for a city that lacked the enlightened guidance of a Bishop.

With a silent sigh you laid eyes upon the countless souls that were assembled in the church. People seeking refuge from the Uhlmannen hordes not very much unlike yourself. Most of them were women, children and old folks however, no doubt any able bodied men had long before been hired by the various competing nobles. Of course this did not necessarily exclude those who had sworn allegiance to the Second Line. If a man wanted to serve both his obligations to crown and faith who were you to deny them?

Priests everywhere had their hands full helping those seeking a place to sleep, a warm meal or guidance in their time of struggle. Surely you would find the time to address one of the Elder Priests after you had informed yourself a bit further about the local faith, you thought to yourself as you opened the Holy Book's heavy cover that had been planted on a large podium in front of the altar. Even though the cathedral was buzzing with people the altar and its surroundings were eerily void of people.

Quickly you skimmed through the pages. You knew many of them well. Though the pages were written in beautifully swung letters and adorned with intriguing imagery these were but needless accessories aiming to please those who placed great value in earthly appearances. There would be no hidden path to salvation only available to those who possessed such a pompous example of craftsmanship.

After a bit of searching you concluded that there were no explicit mentions on the Scythe of Vengeance. There were however two other rather outstanding examples of Scythes, one being the tool of a poor farmer who sought to drive the snakes of his land and was rewarded by god for his persistence, the other being a symbol of Death. Death in this interpretation was a personified third force between God and the Devil and while it held no sway over either of the two Death did not heed to their commands either, staking its claim to all men alike, both good and evil.

"Forgive my intrusion.", a man without any notable accent addressed you. Calmly you closed the book, easily having memorized where the passage was you had just looked at, "I come bearing an offer from the Capital.", the man announced, he was notably uneasy his eyes scanning the surroundings. There was nothing to be seen.

In a bunch of semi-elegantly woven words he made you a deal. Of course he would have never used such a word, but it was what it was. The messanger asked you to support the Usurper, the Kinslayer, the late King's traitor brother. In exchange the Usurper would restore the Bishopric of White Mountain and name you ruler over both castle and town, bringing an end to the petty squabble of the noble families and returning both city and castle to its rightful faith led rule, going so far as to offer you an opportunity to be pronounced Arch-Bishop.

>Skills:

+ Faith Knowledge (3)

>>28862

>>27688

There was no reason to spend more time down here than you absolutely had to after all there were a lot more pressing matters at hand. Still you decided to follow her at least for some time, after all you had sufficient knowledge of this place to find your way out on your own again. Naturally you were not intimidated by some woman running around sewers barefoot, though you did have to question how she had managed to find you without as much as a light source of her own. Her clothing was still remarkably white as well which was an indication that she could impossibly have spent all too much time down here.

The little excursion came to a sudden end when the tunnel began to head down, however you could already see that the lower part was completely flooded and that the few stairs that led downwards were nothing more than a slippery invitation to drown in a river of piss and shit. "I'm not going down there.", you instinctively said in a tone that was a little harder than you had initially anticipated it, however Lynn merely shook her head, "We are already here.".

Looking around suspiciously squinting you quickly made out a little camp though saying it was a camp was an overstatement at any rate. There was a small area where the wall had a bulge that allowed for a some space to easily stand on, someone had placed a little fire on it next to what you assumed to be a sleeping back made from disturbingly looking fur. "Look at this here, you are going to love it.", the High Priestess held a rat up to your face, it had been disembowelled and was now little more than a tiny floppy carpet, "A hat for only one silver!".

She held it up to you with high expectations, trying it to plant it on your head, however you managed to avoid any attempts making on your personal hygiene with some acrobatic effort. "Ah, just kidding! It's for free!", she then exclaimed tossing it at you, out of reflex you caught it. You were already half way to tossing it into the river the rat had no doubt crawled out of when you noticed a few unnatural ripples in the water, "Oh I wouldn't do that. That would be very disrespectful.".

Begrudgingly you looked onto the disgusting gift you held by its still attached tail, perhaps what this woman really needed was some company. Clearly she had gone completely insane from years of isolation down here. Then again she probably had to be completely nuts to have come down here in the first place.

In another time and place another you called forth a great meeting for the family to assemble at your family home, having spent 5 silver on food, drink and of course the market criers who made sure that each and every one of your family members would get to hear about the meeting.

>Inventory:

+ Free Rat Floppy Hat

- 5 Silver

>Skills:

+ Charisma (4)

Hear Ye! Hear Ye! The Market Crier Reports!

The Uhlmannen have set up camp outside of town! Smoke rises just beyond where the forest begins and the skeletons of large war machinery can already be seen emerging! The City gates have been sealed and the guards on the walls have been doubled as Uhlmannen scum can be seen roaming the landscape in large numbers!

The Nation family assembles! Patriarch Sigurd Nation calls for all members of his family to attend a meeting of the Nation Household in his illustrious estate! Food and drink will generously be provided by the host! The assembly is laid out for each member of the Nation family plus one! (One action will be required for attendance)

In other News:

+ Second Line and the Ratwater Guard argue over jurisdiction same day Ratwater Guard is founded

+ Devil Flower price skyrocketing due to predicted supply shortages

+ Many street gangs yet to take a position in Siege to come

+ Mortician profits to exceed expectations in first quarter

+ Increase of odd wagons within city limits noticed, locals curious

Rolled 72, 67 = 139 (2d100)

>>28861

Name: Eric Nation

Fluff: Eric is a tall and lanky young man, standing a full head's length above your average person. Not that you'd notice it. Ever since his birth He's just sort of blended into the background. People see him, they just don't recognize he's actually there. Many times in his life he's walked up to people in full view and nearly given the heart attacks by speaking to them. It's not something he does with intent, it's just that he's so unassuming and unimportant in most people's minds they don't recognize him being there. The fact he was also 7th born son to his father, along with his own nature of being beneath notice meant his schooling in matters politic and in arms was lacking. However when the invasion came he was handy enough with his Grandfather's dagger to surprise and kill several soldiers before ditching his clothes for peasants rags and blending into the horde of refuges fleeing the land.

>>Inventory

+ Grandfather's Ornate Dagger (Sharpened)

+ Grandfather's Dagger (No Ornament, Flawless Copy)

+ Plain Clothes (in closet)

+ Servants Clothing (wearing)

+ 182 Copper

+ Lilith's Iron Flower

>>Skills:

+ Spotting (5)

+ Daggering (38)

+ Noble Customs (62)

+ Sneaking (46)

+ Stealing (6)

+ Running (58)

+ Haggling (6)

+ Climbing (3)

+ Disguise (2)

>Flaws:

+ [Forgettable] You were made to be forgotten. While guards will often forget your face and you can get lost in large crowds easily this is horrible for heroic speeches, begging or finding true love.

+ Enemy [Blueberry Tom]

>Bonuses:

+ [Unassuming] You are rarely accused of doing anything, largely because people don't care or expect you to have done anything. Also bonus to sneaking

>Job

+ Servant(Spy) - Whitecastles (15 Copper / Turn)

Patron Sir Alistair

>Holdings:

+ House near Market (4 rooms) - Owned

>Updates:

+ Long

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

1. Report back what I have heard to Lord Alistair. I somehow doubt a new bishop would help with the Uhlmannen, but this knowledge is worth it's weight in gold since it gives insight into the mind of the crown.

+ Sneaking (46)

+ Running (58)

+unassuming

-Forgettable

2.The attend the party at Sigurd's estate.

Rolled 9, 46 = 55 (2d100)

>>28860

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 33 copper

+ 17 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (67)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (58)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (7)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (20)

+ Shield Tactics (12)

+ Gather Information (5)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)

Flaws: + [Greedy] You have a hard time letting go of gold, people you have to pay do not appreciate this.

+ [Lustful +] You like a good tumble, this comes with some expertise in the area. Women find it hard to resist you however the feeling is mutual. Be careful not to hurt the ones you love.

Bonuses: [Wielder of the Dragon Fang] Your weapon is your father's blade. It is not magic, only a fool would believe that, but if handled right the blade dances almost as if alive, sneaking past scales of armor and cutting deep into enemy flesh. You've also never cut yourself on this one before.

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [Good Samarithan] You're a good guy and the ladies dig it.

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Update- Long

1&2. Fuck this. I'm not going to kill some kids because a woman I do not know says Turmhill wants them dead. I trust Turmhill, don't trust her. Catch up to her and start asking questions, starting with who the hell she is. I will confirm with Turmhill if I have to.

+Gather Information 5

+Charisma 7

+Running 57

+Intimidation 16

+Luck 1

+Good Samaritan?

>>28868

Step three: Talk to or wait for the rider. Once in the room, Aethelric will wait for the rider, if he is not there, and speak to him if he is. The drunken noble will tell the man the plain truth: He heard mercenaries talking about how they planned to kill him, and that he's willing to help him disappear for a little while, and for a price. The price can be negotiated after a clean escape. The rider may not be disposed to believe the nobleman, but upon showing the man his ancestral daggers, with the seal of House Nation upon them, and a reminder that Aethelric wouldn't know about the rider unless he'd overheard the mercenaries discussing his impending demise. The two will get their story straight: The rider is accompanying his cousin, the limping pikeman, back to his home for a visit. The pikeman's name is Sven.

Step four: Escape to the Nation house or other safe place, discuss payment: If the rider's room is on the ground floor, the two can escape through a window. If not, they may be able to leave over the roof tops, or even through the way they came in. Once the two are out of sight of others, Aethelric will shed his cloak and eyepatch, and stop walking funny. Then, they can discuss payment. A small fortune would be preferable to other forms of payment, but beggars can't be choosers. The support of the rider's employer should future situations arise could be a good bonus. Upon arriving at an agreement, Aethelric will show him the way to the Nation household, making sure to stay in alleyways the whole way there, and losing pursuers. Once the two arrive, Aethelric will ask Sigurd, or whoever's home, to house the rider, as he is being hunted by forces unknown. If Aethelric is turned away, he can take the rider to one of the safe places which he has surely learned about over the course of his stay in the city. Perhaps a sewer or particularly small alleyway could provide the protection and concealment necessary to their purpose.

[Execute part one of the plan, possibly more if time allows it/the roll is good enough]

Shit.

Rolled 27, 18 = 45 (2d100)

>>28850

>>Fluff: Vivian was alone crying in the rubble. The mercenaries hired to destroy the castle decided that grabbing a baby girl to "use" once she grows up seemed like a sound idea. That was until they realized that they had spent so much time and effort taking care of this girl, that they couldn't rape her. By the time she was 18 she was already fighting like the best of them. When one of the men finally got pissed at her one day and told her how they all raped and killed most of her family, torched her home, and even stole her fathers sword, she took it quiet well. She ripped out the throat of the one who told her, took the sword off of his corpse, and told the others she was going to need some "alone time", but considering her personality that was very rational.

>>Inventory:+ Father's Sword

>>+ Plain Clothes (Female) [Wearing]

>>+ Plain Clothes (Male)

>>Money: 45 Copper, 2 Silver

>>Skills:

>>+ Swordfighting (50)

>>+ Survival (50)

>>Flaws:+ [Hard Goodbye] You are not exactly on good terms with your old mercenary band and word travels fast. This may be trouble in the long run.

>>Bonus:

>>+ [Tough Girl] You're a tough girl, you've spent your life on the road and don't mind eating moldy food from time to time. Though you do still have some bonding issues this will assist you further in combat and survival.

>>Skills:+ Drinking (4)

>>+ Intimidate (4)

>>+ Hand to Hand (30)

>>+ Girl Talk (8)

>>+ Being a douche (5)

>>Drinking (20)

>>+ Eavesdropping (1)

>>+ Butterfacing (10)

>>+ Dodge (1)

+ Relations - Fighting Pit (15)

>>Job:

>>+ Warehouse Guardian (+ 6 Copper / Turn)

1: "No pay? No thanks? Insults everyday? Ta be honest that ain't much different than what aye get now. Why the fuck not, everyone keeps callin mi a rat anyways." Vivian makes her way upstairs to sign up for the Guard.

2: After making her way through the sign up sheets Vivian realizes she hasn't actually used her sword much since arriving in the city. She decides to take sometime to practice more with her blade instead of her fists.

Rolled 27, 82 = 109 (2d100)

(I was not, haven't been since I got this job. Fixed.)

1/2 - A real magical artifact from the distant seas! What a gift this is, albeit an odd one. How did it end up in my possession? No matter! I will keep it close, only to be used in the beak of combat! Err, the peak. But for now, we must continue to ready ourselves!

>It's another training roll

>>28851

Name: Edmund Nation

Fluff: Sir Edmund has hidden a terrible secret from his family. For years he has used the best makeup and disguises money could buy to hide his true nature. He wore concealing cloaks, practiced squawking in four different languages, and hid his 'skin condition' from view. You see, Edmund Nation is a bird. There is no bird more honorable and noble in all the world, however, and he defends his family name to the last, even if it means his secret is discovered.

>You are a bird posing as a man. Well actually you are a man thinking he is a bird posing as a man. Even centuries from now they would not fully be able to understand your condition. Perhaps god had played a cruel joke on you, but ever since you can remember you've kept this secret from everyone else. Your greatest power, but possibly your achilles heel as well.

>Inventory:

+ Sigil of Flame

+ Crow (Craven)

+ Bird House (Crow-sized)

+ 25 copper, 4 silver

+ Iron Sword (Whitecastle)

+ Leather Armor (Whitecastle)

>Skills:

+ Haggling (4)

+ Housewifery (4)

+ Ungrateful (5)

+ Running (4)

+ Hand to Hand (8)

+ Intimidation (1)

+ Swordfighting (69)

+ Dueling (55)

+ Luck (8)

+ Mechanical Understanding (10)

>Flaws:

+ [The Bird Issue] If somebody discovers your secret you are compelled to obey their commands in order for them not to reveal your terrible secret. This would not prevent you from killing them. Of course only if they specifically found out that you are a bird pretending to be human, not a human thinking he is a bird pretending to be human. The latter would be a ridiculous lie.

+ [Bird Talk] Sometimes you can't resist and just chirp along with the birds.

>Bonuses:

+ [The Phoenix Sigil] Used by the Phoenix Knights of Krahe the Phoenix Sigil is only used by the most fearsome warriors to light themselves on fire for all its benefits and downsides.

>Job:

+ Whitecastle Soldier ( 1 Silver / Turn)

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

Rolled 2, 15 = 17 (2d100)

>>28858

Name: Ophelia Nation

Fluff:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4JxChxvHrU

Ophelia is the model Lady, prim, proper, well mannered, and aloof. And like every Proper Lady she has a dark secret. Ophelia has been taken by the Occult, it fascinates her, the ideas of demons and aberrations existing sends shivers of excitement down her spine. It was not long before she was swept up by a Demonic Cult. Though Secretive and hard to Find they welcomed her into their ranks and her rise within them was rapid, some would say blessed by the very demons they worship. Though her position at the moment is tenuous due to the loss of home and fortune Ophelia is certain that she will keep her position and possibly find temporary housing within a cult member's estate.

Inventory:

+ The Black Tome of Nation

+Well Made Dress

>Home:

+ Von Pissen Residence

Skills:

+ Noble Customs (77)

+ Occult Knowledge (115)

Flaws:

- [Fascinated] Life as a proper lady is incredibly dull and sometimes you are perhaps a bit too excited about the various things you do that concern your cult. You feel the urge to share at least some of the things you know, may it be in sharing it over a cup of tea with a friend or giving ominous warnings to people. Beware you don't talk to much or someone might have to die.

+ [Orton] You hear voices in your head, they council you, they understand. They talk to you.

Bonuses:

+ [The Apocyan Sigil] You are a member of the Apocyan Sigil, a secret society devoted to uncovering the secrets surrounding demons and other evil spirits. While it mostly consists of nobles who want to be elitist in some form and enjoy the secrecy that goes along with the cult's practices the members of the upper circles remain unknown to you. You know various secret signs to identify cult members as well as the basic rituals associated with it.

Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Updates:

+Long

1. Ophelia would push Von Pissen back a few steps hissing at him, "There are barbarians in the sewers, we need to leave immediately and inform someone, go and do so I'll be right behind you." She would then wait a few moments to hopefully spot the source of the ripples speaking to the voice within her head "Whatever is going on I do not wish to be caught of guard, I will grant you control over my eyes if you will ensure that they are better than anything else's and can see magic and through magical disguises but also ensure that it is not noticeable to others. I do not wish to be burned at the stake and I'm sure you'd rather your host survive, for a bit longer at least."

2. After discerning what the cause of the ripples are, or staying longer than she felt that she could be hidden from the tribesmen she would leave, upon hearing about the meeting of the house of nation she will give a small start, having not realized that some of her family had made it to this city. She would of course attend, but be wary, it may be a trap set up for her family, and regardless of if it was a trap or not she did not wish to speak with her brother Bartholomew, annoying zealot that he was so would try to not be noticed by him.

>>29885

Edit to the last paragraph.

“I decree here and now that once the barbarians are dealt with the kinslayer must present himself before the Church, and face a tribunal for his crimes!” Bartholomew turns his hate filled gaze from the Wretch upon the ground to look upon the masses surrounding him. “The City is threatened by the heretical barbarians so we cannot afford such division.” Bartholomews voice grows harsher. “Nor can we tolerate such a despicable sinner as our king. After we send the barbarians screaming to hell, the Usurper must seek absolution from the Church for his crimes against man and God! Should he fail to do so then he must face the wrath of God! Until then the faithful within the city must unite to beat back the contemptable horde of heretics!” Bartholomew has lain down the gauntlet, and called out the Usurper to answer for his crimes. He cannot go unpunished, so upon his return he must seek absolution, or suffer the great and terrible wrath of God.

Rolled 65, 64, 48, 15 = 192 (4d100)

>Name:

Zeorna Nation

>Inventory:

[Bands of the Titans]

[Servant's Clothing]

>Skills:

Hand to Hand (59)

Noble Customs (37)

Intimidation (26)

Lover (5)

Haggling (1)

>Flaws:

[Bulldog] The term bulldog probably describes you best. You have quite a temper and an angry face to go with it.

[Servant] You are a servant to House Whitecastle. Your life still belongs to them, but they no longer treat you like shit.

>Bonuses:

[Big Girl] You're a big girl and not just for you. You gain a bonus to all physical related things except of course things such as hiding.

1&2: The servant work she had to do occupied her time, to keep the balance between serving the Whitecastle nobles, and keeping her body in shape. To ensure that even with the not-so-physical activities doesn't prevent her from gaining any might. After all, not like she's missing anything important, right?

3: Wait, yes, she is missing important stuff. Eric still remain out of her reach, and her attempt to sway the nobles of the whitecastle in order to allow her to visit said member of her own family.

4: As well, the feeling of her 'love' being cheated ran down her otherwise stoic spine. When she had the chance, she would confront the imposing guardwoman to find out all she can about her relationship with Ash.

>>34953

i crei errytim

>>34953

Implying its dead you mong

>>28866

Your [Insert Family Relation here] Bartholomew did not take kindly to the man's words. Grabbing the messenger by the neck the tall Priest raised the feeble seeming diplomat from the ground. Anger had twisted his formerly calm face "You dare wander into the house of God to tempt his devout with bribery?!", Bartholomew's voice tore through the silent murmurs that had filled the cathedral, an uncanny silence now taking their place.

With long steps and dragging the rider along by the neck the Priest quickly moved to the cathedral's center under the silent gaze of stony Saints, refugees and other priests splitting before him to make place. Nervously you waited though you already had your own predictions where this was headed.

Bartholomew was very straight forward, announcing the offer he had received openly to the people present. The whispering turned into murmurs, growing into shouts of anger and disbelief. The gravity of the situation for the city itself could hardly be overstated. The King had offered to take power from the nobles, by force if necessary and then hand it over to the Church. That option was now clearly off the table. With the Nobles being informed over the course of the day the Crown would have to find another way to gain control of the city and somehow you had the feeling that there would not be a peaceful resolution of this issue.

“I decree here and now that once the barbarians are dealt with the kinslayer must present himself before the Church, and face a tribunal for his crimes!”, Bartholomew's voice resonated from the old halls and in the minds of those assembled. A challenge to the Pretender. Though you had no experience with self proclaimed kings you relied on your common sense to tell that they did not take kindly to open challenges, no matter who presented them. A single sentence to seal the fate of any mortal man.

Either way your work here was done. You turned to the large open doors and left the Cathedral and the crowd behind. Stepping out into the mild day sun your gaze wandered across the city and its walls and beyond that to the woods where the skeletons of giants began their work. Small dots in the distance like ants building monuments to their bloody gods. Siege machinery no doubt. A sudden push made you stumble, the messenger had gotten out with his life from the looks of it, you watched him run down the Church hill.

Your way to Whitecastle was rather uneventful and you made your way there without any issues. Whitecastle was pleased to hear the news, though behind his calm facade you could already hear the machinery at work. Surely he was thinking very much alike yourself. The Spymaster was well aware of the potentially grave consequences that Bartholomew's decision could have on the survival of the city, then again the Whitecastle's days had been numbered the moment they had refused to openly back the new King. "Thank you Eric.", he made a faint gesture towards the door, "I believe you have a family assembly to attend to?". With a nod you left the Noble to do his work. Of course you should not be surprised he had heard of the assembly, after all it had been anything but secret.

Sigurd's estate was not quite as illustrious as you had imagined, then again you had willingly given in to an illusion if you had believed him to own something as fancy as the Whitecity Manor. The House was nice and had a rather large open hall. The Senior member of your family had apparently purchased two adjacent houses and combined them to make place for a decently large hall for feasting. Young girls carrying ale were walking back and forth, apparently you were not the first one to arrive.

Across a large U-shaped table that had been set up you could see Icterus, his spear leaned against the wall behind him. The old guard who had been adopted into the family at some point during the great escape was downing an ale while Middus who was half crouched leaning onto the table explained some new plan he had to further the Nation family. He was probably seated next to his father and had come over just to brag. When Icterus spotted you he raised his glass in a salute, however this did not seem to distract Middus from telling his story.

Slowly more and more family members began to trickle in, even Bartholomew whom you had been seeing earlier made an appearance sitting down at one of the tables. Numerous family members both tied to you by blood and name showed up. Interestingly enough Bartholomew's Sister Lady Ophelia had appeared as well, you could not recall having seen her in the city before, in fact you could not even remember her having entered.

>Skills:

+ Sneaking (4)

(You can choose to interact with whomever as a free action next turn, I will put a list of all the people in the update, just be sure to do the interaction before your other actions so you can leave the assembly with no weird time conundrums)

>>29201

"A deal." "A deal.", you murmured, stumbling slightly. "The Devil." "The Maiden.", you said with a shaky voice. "A dozen Titles." "A hundred Names.", suddenly you clenched, a few more moments you tried to hold it back, then you fell onto your knees, spewing forth a flood of white larvae. "A thousand Faces." Violent convulsions rocking your body you hit the ground, crushing some of the maggots beneath you, your limbs twitched uncontrollably as the lights around you began to flicker in a maddening dance. "No rest for the Wicked.", you breathed softly, countless tiny creatures creeping into your mouth and nose. "No Absolution for the Damned."

An arm emerged from the water, its flesh was rotten and strewn with pustules. Creeping forward it grabbed you by the neck. Your skin immediately began to blister under its spoiled touch, your body going limp. "You wanted to see what lies Beyond." Slowly the arm dragged you over the ledge, your mouth moved, outside of your control, word for word seeping out, and where they touched the larvae they brought Death. "I bear his Mark.'" The Brew's Stench drove tears into your Eyes. Drop after drop your Blood carved its way across your cheeks, joining the river before you.

"You asked for no one to see." "And I was given the Gift.", you whispered. With a last jerk the arm pulled you from the stone and into the water's disgusting embrace. Your lungs were filled with the Brew as you descended into the dark depths, unable to move, your face twisted in silent horror. The Last Light above you silently flickered and died. Nothing but Darkness left to commemorate your silent way down into the black Abyss.

Through burning cold and deafening silence you felt a sudden shiver rock the Void. Birthed from bright light the Face of an Angel formed before you. Smooth and beautiful, a Halo towering over its head like the Crown of a King. Her eyes focused on you, soft lips splitting apart.

"A Favor for an old Friend?"

1/2

>>35115

2/2

The world around you exploded into existence as colors and sounds collapsed above you like a tidal Wave. With caught breath you stared ahead. You were sitting, at a table that was. There were voices all around you, people. A small shoulder dug into your side, "Come on, you know my arms aren't that long.", the voice was clear, almost reprehensive in tone. Sharply breathing in you forced yourself to turn your head, it felt like you were a thousand years old. To your side sat the angel, the last indications of her Halo softly fading away.

Her smile quickly turned into a frown, "Something wrong Oph?", you could feel a single tear running down your cheek. Leaning forward she shoved her hand into your face wiping it away with her sleeve, the Angel was wearing a priest's garment. Your heart was drumming, "Didn't know you had that.", she commented between two pieces of bread as a young man dressed in blindingly fancy clothing filled her mug with water. "Thank you, Middus.".

Middus put down the carafe with water and stared at you for a second, someone had branded a 7 onto his forehead, "I noticed nothing of the sort either, then again its been quite a while since we've seen each other.", taking a sip from the glass of Wine he had been holding in the other hand, "However did I tell you of my latest exploits?". Your memory slowly began to adjust. Middus was the youngest of Sigurd's children, an indulgent wastrel seeking to prove himself. Natasha on the other hand was not of your blood at all. An orphan adopted into the family by someone you didn't know for reasons you were unaware of. The Girl however was easily the most beautiful you had ever seen, too bad she was a Zealot much to the pleasure of your brother Bartholomew and the displeasure of quite possibly every other man around. "That depends Middus, are you going to have to repent for your latest exploits?", Natasha fixated your [insert Family Relation here], who decided to make an array of sounds, giving no definitive answer and quickly fading into the crowd.

By now you had calmed yourself looking around. You recognized these people, most of them anyway. Members of the Nation family. Your family. It would appear the rumors had been right after all. Your family was everything but dead. You turned your head and laid eyes upon a large man with a Scythe leaning against the table. Your brother Bartholomew had taken time out of his day to attend the family reunion. Though you had always been quite different as children your heart jumped with relief, still there was something unsettling about him.

Glancing at the Wine Glass before you you inspected your reflection. Drenched in red of course, still your hair was fine the dress you were wearing fit you sufficiently. Then you noticed something. Uncomfortably blinking you picked up the Glass of Wine and held it closer. The Skin on your Neck had blistered, an uncharming sight to say the least.

>Flaws:

-[Orton] You hear voices in your head, they council you, they understand. They talk to you.

+[A Favor Owed] You bear its Mark. You hear its Voice. You see with its Eyes. The Black Abyss speaks to you.

(You can choose to interact with whomever as a free action next turn, I will put a list of all the people in the update, just be sure to do the interaction before your other actions so you can leave the assembly with no weird time conundrums)

>>28867

Like lightning striking a lonely tree a sudden pain shot through your heart. A weird sense overtook you. The flashing of a face you had not seen in a long time. A Woman? Bartholomew's sister? Half of her face was nothing but a bleak Skull. Something was off. Disturbed. Confused. Hurt. A black Sun? Evil..

As quickly as the feeling had appeared it vanished once more. Silently you stared off into the distance. Nothing of the vision remained, but an impending feeling of.. Doom? Ah, you've had worse. A lie to comfort yourself. It was time to return to the here and now.

Who did that Woman think she was? It took more than a round butt to order you around! Had you not been as busy being angry you might have actually taken a few seconds to appreciate the sight, instead you put some effort into it and caught up to her with a quick jog. "And who the hell do you think you are to order me to just cut down children like animals?", you demanded to know with a hand on her shoulder.

As the woman turned around towards you you could see her puckering, her cheeks were inflated looking up to you with eyes wide open. For some reason the rather stupid expression actually made her seem younger.

"My name is Martha.", she said with a sigh and an exaggerated eye roll, the attitude apparently came free of charge, "I am a Tracker. You know. For Turmhill?", to the end her voice got drawn out more, clearly she was trying to push your buttons. "Oh really? You would not mind confirming that with Turmhill then, would you?", you questioned her in return, confidently crossing your arms with a frown.

"Whatever you say Big Boy.", she seemed annoyed, however not surprised at all. You extended an arm, "After you.". If she already claimed to work for Turmhill surely she would have no trouble finding the way to his Mansion then? Of course finding the Mansion alone would not prove anything, most people knew where Turmhill lived. However it would give you a reason to walk behind her and keep an eye open in case she tried to run.

No such luck however. Your way to Turmhill's Mansion was uneventful. The Guards let you in without question, another bad sign that was only going to be confirmed once you entered Turmhill's office. Your thickish kind faced employer was placed behind his desk, buried under towers of paper and books. Next to Turmhill a man was leaning on the window ledge, the knife he used to clean his nails seemed almost puny in comparison to his impressive build. A golden ring was decorating his tatooed forearm.

With a sigh of relief your Boss pushed away a large stack of paper looking at you and then the Tracker. The smile quickly vanished from his face, "I suppose that means no then? Tom would you be so kind?". The large man calmly pushed himself from the window ledge, "You just get what I want.", without turning his eyes away from you Turmhill waved off, "Certainly. Certainly.". Martha and the guy were already half way through the door when you wanted to protest, however Turmhill was quick to interrupt you.

"I assume you want answers?", Turmhill asked, leaning forward he tried to find a place to rest his now folded hands without pushing over too much of the rather chaotically sorted papers. "The Children i asked you to.. dispose off were leaking information to the Uhlmannen. We have reason to believe that they managed to get their hands on something special. They decided to hold out on handing it over for a better deal. We are not absolutely sure as to what it was, but needless to say if its that important we could impossibly allow it to fall into Uhlmannen hands.".

A way into the city?

"Either way you could see this as a Test of sorts. Naturally killing a child is not something that comes easily to most men, and believe me when I tell you that I can very much I understand that. But I do require a number of individuals willing to go to extraordinary lengths. I would have hoped to be able to count on you, but what good can come of forcing a man to act against his nature?", shaking his head and Turmhill bumblingly got up from behind his desk, answering his own question, "Nothing. Nothing at all.".

Taking a few loud steps he walked over to you, coming to a sudden halt before you. You were easily an entire head taller than him, however what the merchant lacked in height he made up in width, "I hear that you are an inspiring example to your men and a great Swordsman at that. I hope that even though I have placed you in such an awkward position I can continue to rely on your support as a Leader of Men?", he extended his open hand towards you.

>Skills:

+ Charisma (2)

>>28895

The Ratwater Guard sounded like your band of people. A bunch of misfits and former criminals banding together to take no shit from anyone! Of course when you thought about it those words could be used to describe most mercenary bands as well. Perhaps you were just feeling a little homesick? With a grin on your lips you got up the stairs, it was about time you cut a few people open alongside someone else. A sudden violent urge grew stronger in you which you quickly surpressed. Got a little carried away there.

You were unsure what you had expected to begin with. Recruitment for the Ratwater Guard was rather unimpressive from the looks of it. A bunch of shady people were waiting to make their cross on some papers that meant nothing to them or the people who asked to sign them. Really you had been overqualified for the position of sellsword probably since the age of five, but you did get some pleasure out of squandering the potential your father Sigurd had presented you with.

After not too long of a wait you got your turn in signing up, following a sudden instinct you just made a cross on it. You could not be arsed to read the whole thing and besides how did anyone want to prove that you had signed it? Your name was not even on that thing.

Practically the moment you had made your cross a dead Rat already came flying your way, you tried to deflect it but it was too late. The dead animal smacked into your face and stuck for a split second, then softly fell down into your hands. "Kinda expected you to screetch.", the Woman from downstairs grinned at you, "Name's Davi and that little fellow is your batch.".

Upon closer inspection you realized what she was trying to point out. Of course it still was a dead rat, but the bones and internal organs had been scraped out, a crude wave symbol carved into its head. "Ratwater. Clever.", you said as dry as you could force yourself to sound. "Cheer up Missy. You're with us now. Now what do they want?".

You turned to look over your shoulder and spotted a group of people approaching. Six? Eight? They all bore matching dark colored clothing with two Red Stripes on their shoulders. Looked fancy for sure, "The Second Line. Apparently the Church needs another group of zealots to cut down innocent Townsfolk.".

Something about them struck you as odd. You took another look at them. There were no women, but even for you that was nothing unusual. In all of your time as a Mercenary you had rarely met a girl that could even hold a sword let alone properly fight with one. While it certainly was not their gender it was their age that set them apart. Most of them had grey hair, some of them even white. Perhaps these guys were part of the Second Line quite simply because the First Line did not want them?

"Now whats going on here?!", the apparent leader of the group shouted out, he was rather unimpressive, what little hair he had left was grey stubble on the side of his head, hardly a dozen heads turned into his direction, "Looks like what this place needs is the Hand of God!", he slapped a girl that was passing by on the ass. Spitting at him she hurried on.

Flanked by you and another member of the Ratwater Guard Davi closed in on the Second Line for the inevitable banter. On one hand you wanted to believe there was some deeper motive to the chest beating, their blatant loud approach an elaborate disguise for a hidden clandestine agenda, however you were in the Ratwater District, people rarely thought further than they could throw their knives. You looked back over your shoulder to find that the Ogre had disappeared.

"What a pleasure to meet the tits of the operation!", the guy exclaimed, "Unfortunately I am looking for the head.", Davi frowned, "Alright listen up Smallcock Sam, this is my show and if you got shit to say you better spit it out like your lover's semen.". The men exchanged glances of disbelief as their leader gradually turned more red, "You little-", jumping slightly into the air Davi's elbow connected to the man's face with a sickening crunch, stumbling backward he fell onto his ass, holding his bleeding face.

The street around you began to come to life as more people began to take an interest, the unmistakable sound of swords being drawn and weapons being readied rang in your ear. You remained calm. These people sure had some nerve to come to the Ratwater and act like they did, but there was no way they would be stupid enough to actually start a fight on your ground. They would be cut into pieces and fed to the rats, no doubt about it.

"You bitch!", their leader exclaimed as the Second Line dragged him away, "I will fucking get you!", Davi however seemed unimpressed. Threats and insults came with the job after all. "That sure wont be the last we have seen of them. Keep an eye out when you're on patrol. They will be sure to cause trouble.".

>Inventory:

+ Ratwater Badge

>>28897

Another day of practice began like any other. The Uhlmannen had kept quiet on their end for now, the Towers and whatnot were still under construction, though it was only a matter of time until they would advance. Unless of course they were planning to starve you out. While it was an unusual tactic for Uhlmannen to wait as long perhaps it had been the long prepared defenders of the city that had gotten them to reconsider?

You entered the castle through the gaping maw that was its gatehouse stepping into the, as you immediaetly noticed, surprisingly empty courtyard. A handful of soldiers were doing some minor practice here and there. The situation stood in stark contrast to the scenes from only yesterday when people were hard pressed to find space to train on at all.

A little confused you approached a small group, most of them were sitting on the freshly cut grass, the ground next to them had been dug open, looked like someone had planted seeds inside. "The Recruits got sent to reinforce the City Walls.", one of them answered before you could even ask, "The time for training is over. Its mostly about conserving strength now.".

Behind you a few carts stacked with supplies rolled in, "We are expecting them to scale the walls by the end of the week. Its unlikely that we will be able to stop them if they do.", with a sigh the soldier pointed towards the walls, "They won't be able to get the siege towers into the city and through the street, so we hope that we should be able to keep them out of the castle until they finish looting and leave.".

Clearly this was why they had sent out the recruits in the first place. In a siege the less people had to be fed the better and with the insane recruitment drive everyone had been doing they had to be burning through supplies in no time. Apparently you yourself had not been classified as a 'Recruit' though. From the looks of it you would get a first class seat to the destruction of the city. That was of course unless the Uhlmannen decided they wanted to conquer the castle as well.

You figured you could get at least a few sword swings of practice out of this situation before you considered how to proceed further. After all most of your family was not part of the Whitecastle Soldiers that would get to hide behind the Castle Walls while everyone else fought in the defense of the city.

>Skills:

Swordfighting (4)

>>28956

You delivered your threat in a cold and firm voice, slowly it rang out in the street as people around slowly began to realize what was happening and gained their distance. For a moment you could see the farmer hesitating, clearly he had been drinking too much, but he did realize that you were armed with a spear and he was not. A weapon that the Uhlmannen were known for brutally utilizing to its maximum lethal potential.

Then again, he was drunk and had his friends with him. The fight in the man's face was clear as day, however the conclusion which he came to did not please you. With a disgusting crack the blunt end of your spear connected to his face, teeth and blood spattered on the ground, surprised and scared gasps coming from the small audience that had formed a circle around you and the other men, who had now decided to get going as well.

Farmers. Had you actually been born an Uhlmann by now you would have cut down dozens of them in your lifetime. However you were no Uhlmann, you were a member of the proud House of Nation, or what was left of it anyway. You would fight them, swiftly you dived under a reckless swing, spun your spear around and broke a leg, but you would not kill them.

Two more followed as the first man collapsed howling like a dog. Swiping away one's feet with your spear you rammed your elbow into the face of the other. Quickly you pushed your spear onto the ground, using it to stabilized you jumped up and kicked the man you had struck with your elbow directly into the head using both of your feet. He hit the ground like freshly hunted vension as you elegantly landed holding onto your weapon. Unfortunatly the guy whose feet you had just sweeped was now holding onto it as well, a situation easily solved by a whole hearted kick to the head.

With a sudden jerk you turned around your head staring directly into the eyes of the last guy who was still up on his feet. Without as much as a word he just turned around and squeezed into the bystanders, you let him escape for good measure, however as you turned around you looked at a patrol of six Whitecity Soldiers. Their Leader was noticeably relaxed, perhaps an attempt to give you a false sense of security. His men however were tense as could be.

"And what would this be?", he asked slowly resting a hand on his sword, "I'm a Whitecastle Officer. These useless drunk Idiots tried to start a riot.", you pointed to the more than miserable remains of the Farmer group, "If I were you I'd have their heads up on the wall before afternoon as example.", you turned around demonstratively and began to walk away, "But what do I know? I'm only the guy doing your job.".

You approached the bystanders as they opened up a path for you. Your heart was racing. Intelligent as you were you had refrained from killing them, unarmed and untrained as they had been it was an easy task to do so, however even more trained and armed soldiers? You would have to kill them no doubt and sooner than later it would be your head up on that wall. A few more steps. Nobody seemed to say anything, so you just kept going.

After two more streets you actually turned around. Nobody was following you, nobody was calling for your head. From the looks of it you had successfully bluffed your way out of that one.

>Skills:

+ Polearms (2)

+ Dodge (5)

+ Charisma (5)

>>29885

Your words forcefully echoed through the ancient halls that surrounded you. They had long transcended their meaning as a mere threat. Today they were a Declaration of War. A pledge to fight the Sinners, a much needed reminder that all of them would pay, no matter whether they wore Rags or a Crown.

People flooded out of the Cathedral down the hill and into the streets. No doubt they were already spreading the word. While you held great sway within the city the true gravity of your declaration remained to be seen. What would your fellow Priests and Bishops beyond the reaches of Weissstadt do? Of course there was no doubt what was right and just in the eyes of the Lord, however if he had attempted to bribe you surely he would attempt to bribe your other brethren as well. A problematic situation especially now that it was harder than ever to exert your influence over your fellow Holy Men.

You stepped away from the center of the Cathedral. The Diplomat had vanished like the faithless rat he was. Quickly you scanned the church, many members of the Second Line had remained within the church, they wore black clothing marked with two red stripes, the courtesy of a minor local noble. One of them approached you.

"Your Holyness.", the man took a slight bow, his hair was white as snow, "We have run into some problems regarding those who seek our aid. Many remain on the street and we are struggling to scrape together enough food to feed them all. With the Uhlmannen besieging us it is impossible to acquire any more food from the outside. We have to do something.".

Faintly nodding you looked onto the man, "I will look into it.", you gave him the vaguest promise you could come up with. Though this was not officially your task it would appear many expected you to handle it as the semi-official leader of the Second Line. A family meeting was scheduled for tonight, Sigurd was calling out to the Nation family to assemble. Perhaps you could find some assistance there. Besides, it would be nice to get to see some familiar faces.

You passed through the streets filled with people, left and right they made way for the tall man with the Scythe. Some of them recognized you, others were simply smart enough to avoid large Scythe wielding men. Arriving at Sigurd's house you were quickly let in by one of the servants. Judging from the property you assumed Sigurd had hired him for the occasion, the house was not that impressive after all.

Once inside you quickly looked around, most of these people felt familiar, all members of the Nation family no doubt. Looking around you noticed that Natasha was here as well, the young orphan had been adopted by your family and proven to be a Zealous Defendant of the Faith ever since. She had even taken up work at the Church, demanding the bakers share their bread with the refugees. From the looks of it Talvi had found his way to the family meeting as well. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach, you were uncertain whether he had not seen you enter or was avoiding you on purpose. You had not talked after you had whiplashed him several times for sodomy. You felt bad, however you knew that God was just and was indiscriminate in his teachings.

>Skills:

+ Zeal (10)

+ Influence [The Second Line] (10)

+ Charisma (5)

(You can choose to interact with whomever as a free action next turn, I will put a list of all the people in the update, just be sure to do the interaction before your other actions so you can leave the assembly with no weird time conundrums)

>>28879

Tracking down your family proved to be a lot easier than you had at first anticipated. Sigurds announced Family Gathering had been a beneficial turn of events and thus you simply decided to attend. The House itself was not all too impressive, though it was nicely located and had a servant who invited you inside, where a number of other Family Members had already gathered and was now waiting for Sigurd to make his case. Except they weren't exactly waiting. People were drinking, chatting and in an all round good mood if one put aside the impending Uhlmannen invasion.

You immediately recognized your [Insert Family Relation] Middus, the Family Wastrel. However less prominent Family Members such as Deiphobus the People Pleaser or Dante the Undecided were present. It was good to see that there were so many who had survived the fall of your Homelands after all. There were also two freakishly tall Far South Landers, interestingly enough they spoke your tongue without accent. As it was unlikely they were diplomats they had been accepted as members of the Nation Family, still you had your reservations.

Presented with an opportunity you spoke to several family members regarding Whitecastle and Whitecity. From the sound of it Middus held a rather close relationship with Count Whitecity's sister while Sigurd was teaching the man's nephew. There are also apparently some rumors about some guy shouting "I AM THE NIGHT" while on patrol, but surely you wouldn't have heard of that one.

As for the Whitecastle faction of your family apparently somebody had heard that Edmund was a Whitecastle soldier, however he had not attended today's assembly so you would not be able to tell. Somebody said they had spotted a freakishly strong woman working as a Whtiecastle servant, however you weren't exactly aware as to whom that could be. Perhaps somebody else knew more.

Convincing Whitecity and Whitecastle to throw their combined forces at the enemy in an open attack would prove a hard task for certain. However at least you left a good impression with Sigurd who shared your despise for the Uhlmannen. There is also no doubt that the less impressive male members of the Nation Family are looking up to you and your impressive military virtues.

Probably the person you could muster the most respect for was Julian. As one of the few real Fighters he had retained his sense of Honor and Nobility. You had no doubt that you could always rely on him to do the honorable thing, even if that honorable thing may be incredibly stupid. Then again as a Leader of Men it was your duty to direct those who were brave in Heart but lacking in the refined ways of Warfare.

Middus helped you to another drink and you had a nice chat with Icterus, another one of the Family's true Soldiers. He had once been one of the Guards back when the Homelands fell, however these days he too was a Member of the Nation family. You had seen him kill impressive numbers of Uhlmannen with that Spear of his. As an experienced Personal Guard he would be Invaluable in the times to come. Not as invaluable as you of course, after all great minds were always in need.

>Skills:

+ Charisma (8)

(You can choose to interact with whomever as a free action next turn, I will put a list of all the people in the update, just be sure to do the interaction before your other actions so you can leave the assembly with no weird time conundrums)

>>28868

You easily found your way towards Sigurd's house. A servant greeted you inside, a nice change of pace from your everyday life which mostly revolved around clandestine activities and your alcohol dependency. Funnily enough the Servant immediately let you inside which made you question whether just anybody confident enough could enter. Your assumption was reinforced by spotting two almost comically tall Far South Landers. Surely they had to have provided some sort of proof that they belonged to the family.

As a positive surprise you were immediately handed a strong Ale by Karlington. He had always been sort of a Black Sheep and was accompanied by a shady looking fellow. No doubt he had made his money with many less than legal activities, however you were not one to turn down a free Ale when it came along.

You had a small chat with Karlington, he was mostly gloating about his Tavern outside of Town which had by now probably seen its fair share of Uhlmannen looting. He acted like it was the future of the Nation family, which could be true, however you had already heard about it as some sort of meeting place for all kinds of criminal scum. Then again you were the one technically in possession of 12 pigs so who were you to talk?

The next person to catch your eye was Natasha. Not a member of the Nation family by birth you were certain many men treated her like a Unicorn, her face and proportions were more than enough reason to, however you had seen true divinity before and knew better than to stand and stare. Besides, she was family at this point.

There were a number of other family members present, but time was running short, you decided to stay for whatever Sigurd had to say, however decided to bow out quickly afterwards.

(Refer to the Sigurd General Post)

Quickly commencing with the first plan of your disguise you grab your self made eye patch and Deiphobus' coat who had been rather easily convinced to let you have it because you really needed it for reasons. Mostly to store all that bread and alcohol of yours. With a few more sips of some booze you procured at the Family Reunion you got yourself into the mindset of one of the shadiest Disguises you could have possibly come up with.

Arriving at the Drunk Nobleman you concluded that you had managed to get here before the Mercenaries, mostly due to the lack of broken Chaos or Bodies. "Names Sven, here for my cousin. He's from out of town. You seen him?", you asked the surprisingly skinny Bartender perhaps laying on a bit thickly, however he quickly points you upstairs to a door, "How you know he's my Cousin?", you ask threateningly leaning onto the tavern counter. "Must be the only Guy who wants to be in this Town.", the Bartender responded, slightly leaning back.

With a grunt you turned away from the Counter and made your way up the stairs to the door. Exchanging a last glance with the Bartender you stepped inside. The man who had been sitting down on his bed immediately jumped up, "Who are you and what are you doing here?!", he said in a perfectly clear and educated tone. A Diplomat no doubt. If not a Nobleman. Perhaps even both?

1/2

>>35123

2/2

Knowing you had spent a lot of time at the Family Reunion you quickly explained the situation, the color gradually left the Diplomat's face, however when you presented yourself as a member of the Nation family it did not exactly make things better. He quickly stepped away from you, backing into the wall, not taking his eyes of you he began fidgeting with the window, trying to open it.

"Oh yes, I've made great experiences with your Kin already!", his voice was laced with sarcasm, the high pitch and bits and pieces of what you assumed to be his native dialect breaking through were a clear sign of panic, "I'd love to come with you and have you protect me unfortunately I don't think that will be happening.". His movement becoming increasingly hectic somehow he managed to get the window open, bending his body in weird ways to fit through it while not loosing sight of you. "It was a great deal, you know that? A deal of a lifetime. You know how many people would have taken it? Hell I would have taken it if I had the chance! But no!"

Loud laughter emerged from downstairs, "It feels like we've been talking about your Girl the whole day now!", more laughter. "And did he just turn it down? Of course he didn't! He tried to kill me! And now you show up here? What is wrong with you people!". Finally the Diplomat had managed to fit himself through the window and was now struggling to keep his balanced on the sloped roof tiles. Clearly he had no idea where to go from here.

You could hear heavy steps and familiar, loud voices on the stairs behind you. Things were not exactly going your way and the Diplomat just kept going on.

>Skills:

+ Disguise (3)

+ Drinking (3)

(You can choose to interact with whomever as a free action next turn, I will put a list of all the people in the update, just be sure to do the interaction before your other actions so you can leave the assembly with no weird time conundrums, time wise this will be before Sigurd's Speech)

>>33456

A few pushups here and there, pulling your own weight and having two of the servant girls sit down on the end of a Broom and shrugging them. Of course the Broom broke, but you could probably still shrug them with one in each hand. While some of the Head Servants observe the procedure with some displeasure they refrain from direct interference, after all they value their own well being over how clean the floors are.

Finally after impressing most of the other Servants with your Strength you go back to your normal cleaning duties, trying to address one of the random nobles passing by you grab a hold of Sir Alistair, a no doubt powerful if shady man he was Count Whitecastle's brother which put him in a position of granting you some liberties. He seemed rather preoccupied, however when you questioned whether you were allowed to get into contact with Eric he merely responded with a "Who?", after a few passing seconds he seemed to remember. "By all means, I'm sure he could use all the attention he can get.".

After having been granted your permission to go and talk to Eric you checked on the Guardswoman who surprisingly enough was to be found within the castle compound. While you tried to get some answers out of her she frustratingly enough simply ignored you, refusing to address any of your concerns. Stuck up bitch.

(You can now talk to Curious, its a free action)

>Skills:

+ Hand to Hand (4)

Nation Family Assembly

If you attended the Nation Family Assembly your Character has this Information

After a while a surprising amount of people had assembled. Some more and some less evidently members of the Nation Family. As was to be expected Sigurd opened with a long and elaborate speech about the importance of Family and Unity, that it was the most important Loyalty any person could ever have. More important than Loyalties to say a Liege or City.

Furthermore he offered each and every Family Member a place to stay in his House, though it did not take a an elaborate understanding of space that this would prove rather hard given the size of the House, still the message was clear. He intended to bring the Family back together and provide, to make up for mistakes of the past.

Speaking about the Uhlmannen threat he commended those who had joined up with with the City's soldiers to protect lives against the savage Uhlmannen Hordes once more. However he had another thing to say on that matter. Paying the Servants and ordering them to leave he created some tension finally announcing that he had indeed managed to find a way out of the besieged City.

Going through some old Book he had managed to find a route through the Underground Labyrinth that was the City's Sewage Canals, a long forgotten path that could allow the Family to escape should it come to the worst. Of course he would wait until the last possible moment, but he was prepared to lead all of his Family Members to safety once the time had come.

Having announced what he had initially called the assembly for Sigurd urged each and every family member to work together, not only in this time of Crisis, but beyond it as well, because it was only as a Family that the Nation Dynasty could become Great once again.

If you attended the Nation Family Assembly:

>Bonuses:

- [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

+ [A House United] Gain +5 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +10 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

If You Did Not Attend Nation Family Assembly

>Bonuses:

- [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

+ [House of Tough Love] Gain +3 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +8 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

The Market Crier Reports

- His Hands cut off, beaten, broken and in chains Duke Lyon arrived at the City's Gates today, a messanger of the Horselords. The Uhlmannen demand the immediate extradition of Aiska Nation. At the time his whereabouts remain unknown. Several Merchants and minor Nobles have already offered handsome Rewards for his Arrest.

- Bartholomew Nation presented the King with an Ultimatum to come before the Church and pay for his crimes. The Second Line has joined the Priest in refusing the former King's Brother and Kinslayer as rightful Ruler

- A small group of Uhlmannen fired a volley of arrows over the Wall today, five were injured another three lethally wounded.

- Minor Conflicts between the newly founded Ratwater Guard and the Second Line occur, Guards are uncomfortable about the amount of armed Factions within the City

- Strategists form all Factions are uncertain about how to tackle the Uhlmannen Siege Weaponry

People Attending the Assembly:

+ Dara (Aethelric)

+ Scruffy (Tacticus)

+ Teren (Ophelia)

+ Clovis (Bartholomew)

+ Sigurd (NPC)

+ Elisa (NPC)

+ Middus (NPC)

+ Natasha (NPC)

+ Icterus (NPC)

+ Talvi (NPC)

+ Deiphobus (NPC)

+ Dante (NPC)

+ Julian (NPC)

+ Sweet Bob (NPC)

+ Karlington (NPC)

+ Urok Ni'aa "the Mad"(NPC)

+ Oo'ka B'aa (NPC)

People I forgot who are also attending:

+ Curious (Eric)

Rolled 73, 30 = 103 (2d100)

>>35117

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 33 copper

+ 18 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (67)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (58)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (9)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (20)

+ Shield Tactics (12)

+ Gather Information (5)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)

Flaws: + [Greedy] You have a hard time letting go of gold, people you have to pay do not appreciate this.

+ [Lustful +] You like a good tumble, this comes with some expertise in the area. Women find it hard to resist you however the feeling is mutual. Be careful not to hurt the ones you love.

Bonuses: [Wielder of the Dragon Fang] Your weapon is your father's blade. It is not magic, only a fool would believe that, but if handled right the blade dances almost as if alive, sneaking past scales of armor and cutting deep into enemy flesh. You've also never cut yourself on this one before.

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [Good Samarithan] You're a good guy and the ladies dig it.

+ [House of Tough Love] Gain +3 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +8 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

>Update- Long

"If you would excuse me for saying sir, while I would never agree to such an order without proper reason, the order also came from a source who could not verify she was working for you without bringing me all the way back to your office. I'd have been a fool to agree to that order as it could just as easily have been someone trying to diminish your good name. Now then, may I take my leave sir?"

1&2. That was stronger than any other feeling that I have had, and more detailed. Ophelia, that was her name.. wasn't it? Well if she is still alive Siguard will know and maybe even know where to find her. After that I just need to figure out what the FUCK that was. 6th sense don't let me down now.

+ Gather Information (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Luck (1)

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [House of Tough Love] Gain +3 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +8 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack) (If cooperation)

>>35116

Ophelia traced the blisters on her neck with a small grimace before saying, "A trial of my journey here, barbarians are very fond of using burning clubs as weapons, thankfully I was saved before too much damage could be done, but enough about myself, how have you been Natasha?"

She turned away from her brother and looked at Natasha, hoping to see such a visage again, she may need to be wary but the thought of Natasha as an angel was not so far fetched an idea considering how religious she was, but what had happened to Middus, he had walked off before she could ask and she had been a bit distracted by suddenly appearing in what was apparently the new Nation family home.

Rolled 43, 85 = 128 (2d100)

>>35125

>Name:

Zeorna Nation

>Inventory:

[Bands of the Titans]

[Servant's Clothing]

>Skills:

Strength (63)

Noble Customs (37)

Intimidation (26)

Lover (5)

Haggling (1)

>Flaws:

[Bulldog] The term bulldog probably describes you best. You have quite a temper and an angry face to go with it.

[Servant] You are a servant to House Whitecastle. Your life still belongs to them, but they no longer treat you like shit.

>Bonuses:

[Big Girl] You're a big girl and not just for you. You gain a bonus to all physical related things except of course things such as hiding.

+ [A House United] Gain +5 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +10 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

1: Even with the siege outside the walls, Zeorna continues to serve under the Whitecastles, from providing the nobles of the family their refreshments, to something a little more important. Due to her unnatural strength, she was told to haul supplies and armaments to the walls, which would be a simple task, in spite of the strain given by the weight of said supplies.

2: After what she needed to be done is done, she finally retires to the castle. However, instead of heading back to her quarters, Zeorna instead headed to Ash, in order to show him that whatever the Guardwoman is doing with him, she can do it /better/.

>>35126

Before that, however, Zeorna would be present at the assembly, but wouldn't speak up outside of a few remarks.

>>35130

You stared at her and concentrated as she opened her mouth, "What is it you hope to see?", the world around you dimmed off, the lights lost in brightness and everything besides Natasha's face turned into a lifeless grey tone.

"The Saint?", in a flood of light that made you squint a majestic Halo was birthed that sat upon her head and where her words reached the grey dullness of the room they brought color and life.

"The Sinner?", a single spark ignited the Halo and the fire spread, her eyes turned black as she wept blood, eyeing you with a sharp teethed grin, her skin blistering under the fire, pustules and rifts as of a broken vase deforming her face.

"Or is it something else you seek?", the imagery faded away, before you sat a girl no older than eight, dressed in rags she looked up to you with sorrowful eyes. Wind picked up and she quickly grew in age until once more Natasha was sitting before you.

"There are so many things to show and so many things to see. But why don't I show you the only thing you really cared about?", within the blink of an eye Natasha's flesh fell off her bones and new muscles and veins spread across, forming a new face. Your own.

For a few seconds you blinked at your own imagery, it mirrored you every move. Slowly the blisters on your neck began to spread, down your neck and up your face. The stench of rot grew ever stronger as your flesh turned grey under the blisters and one after the other they popped open, tiny creatures leaping forth, burying themselves deep within your flesh.

"Never forget. There is no Absolution for the Damned."

The world around you regained its color, lights and sounds slowly fading back in, "But of course they wouldn't give up their wares to help their next.", Natasha took a sip from her water, swallowing up. Tears shot into her eyes and she turned her head a little, forming a fist in front of her mouth, "They will burn in hell.", she barely managed to press out, before trying to clear her throat.

Rolled 62, 41 = 103 (2d100)

>>35118

>>Fluff: Vivian was alone crying in the rubble. The mercenaries hired to destroy the castle decided that grabbing a baby girl to "use" once she grows up seemed like a sound idea. That was until they realized that they had spent so much time and effort taking care of this girl, that they couldn't rape her. By the time she was 18 she was already fighting like the best of them. When one of the men finally got pissed at her one day and told her how they all raped and killed most of her family, torched her home, and even stole her fathers sword, she took it quiet well. She ripped out the throat of the one who told her, took the sword off of his corpse, and told the others she was going to need some "alone time", but considering her personality that was very rational.

>Inventory:+ Father's Sword

>+ Plain Clothes (Female) [Wearing]

>>+ Plain Clothes (Male)

>>Money: 45 Copper, 2 Silver

>>Skills:

>>+ Swordfighting (50)

>>+ Survival (50)

>>Flaws:+ [Hard Goodbye] You are not exactly on good terms with your old mercenary band and word travels fast. This may be trouble in the long run.

>>Bonus:

>>+ [Tough Girl] You're a tough girl, you've spent your life on the road and don't mind eating moldy food from time to time. Though you do still have some bonding issues this will assist you further in combat and survival.

>>Skills:+ Drinking (4)

>>+ Intimidate (4)

>>+ Hand to Hand (30)

>>+ Girl Talk (8)

>>+ Being a douche (5)

>>Drinking (20)

>>+ Eavesdropping (1)

>>+ Butterfacing (10)

>>+ Dodge (1)

+ Relations - Fighting Pit (15)

>>Job:

>>+ Warehouse Guardian (+ 6 Copper / Turn)

Vivian takes a great deal of interest in the dead rat. It reminds her of a time in her youth where she found a mink in her sleeping bag while on the road. She had accidentally crushed it to death in her sleep but she found it soft and had kept it for weeks before her fam- her other mercenaries smelled it and made her get rid of it. A sad smile crosses her face

1-2:"A nuff whining u little cunt" Vivian mutters to herself stuffing the rat in her pocket. "Dis won't be too different den the warehouse job just patrol and guard an look out fer cocksuckers."

>>35126

Bartholomew is overjoyed to see so many of his family members alive and well, he has small interactions with Natasha nearly every day, but still it is good to see so much of his blood alive and in once place. The sight brought to him memories of a time long passed, and with them, a rage towards those who ended them.

>>35130

Bartholomew of course sought to speak to his sister first, just seeing her alive filled him with relief. Though they had never been the closest of siblings, often taking the opposite side of issues he still loved her. He approached her, but saw that she was speaking to Natasha. Bartholomew notices that Ophelias face goes pale for a moment after she greets Natasha and hopes that she isn’t becoming ill.

>>35155

Bartholomew sees Natashas words as an excellent time to interject himself into the conversation. “We can only hope to persuade them, Natasha. One way or the other, God’s children need to eat. I’m certain that those with a bounty will come forward to assist in this time of need. Have faith and remember, an honest, true confession coupled with a strive for redemption can absolve even the worse of sins.” Bartholomew swirls his cup of wine a short while in contemplation before speaking again. “Of course, those sinners who do not seek redemption or confession are doomed to burn hell. This is also a truth of our world.”

[After this conversation ends Bartholomew approaches Talvi.]

“Talvi, I come to you to implore you. Seek confession through Church. Your soul can still be saved. Though you lust after your fellow man, you may still save your immortal soul. The church may be a bit crowded nowadays, but you can still absolve yourself of your sins. You need only seek it. I cannot bear the thought of my family being condemned to hell”

[After he speaks to Talvi Bartholomew seeks out Sigurd.]

“Sigurd, Uncle I appreciate your concern for our family but I cannot abandon the people of the church or the refugees who have come to the house of God seeking aid. I will not run from wicked again. Be they Kinslayer or Barbarian I shall face them with the faithful and God on my side.” Bartholomew looks over to the rest of the family, socializing and having a good time. “And… Thank you, uncle. Seeing our family again has been very refreshing, recent times have been quite stressful.” Bartholomew makes idle chatter with Sigurd for a while before speaking again. “Ah, yes. If you do not mind, Uncle. May I take the leftovers from this feast back to the Church? It may help a little with our food shortage.”

[Later, after that Bartholomew sees Oo'ka B'aa and finds himself startled.]

Bartholomew approaches the tall black man. “Oo'ka B'aa? You were my relative? Thank God you have managed to prove your innocence, The Lord has delivered my wayward relative from evil. Tell me, how have you been… Cousin?” Bartholomew was pleasnetly surprised when the Red Cloak he has dispatched reported the strange black man to be innocent, his prejudice had been unfounded and he had learned an important lesson. But to think, his family member had been in such danger and he hadn’t even known.

Rolled 36, 46 = 82 (2d100)

>>35126

Name: Sigurd Nation

Fluff: Sigurd is the oldest surviving member of the once-grand Nation family, father to many of it's strongest children and at one point a greatly-respected man for his rational judgement and skill at arms - and he had it all taken away in an instant. Few of his children still breathe, his house lies in financial and popular ruin and one of his eyes was burned to uselessness, making even combat difficult for the aging man. His brothers and sisters all lie missing or dead as well, and taking care of their children and re-assembling the great house of Nation from it's ashes has fallen onto his shoulders. Perhaps the most shameful thing to him was the loss of his grand blade and armor, things he desperately seeks back.

>Inventory:

+ Ancestor's Pendant

+ Fancy Clothes

+ Fancy Hat

+ 19 Silver

+ Noble Iron Sword

+ Great Book of Catacombs and Sewagery (and knowledge)

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (67)

+ Leadership (28)

+ Searching (2)

+ Luck (1)

+ Sneaking (3)

+ Charisma (10)

+ Searching (13)

+ Faith (4)

+ Running (4)

>Holdings:

+ House in Nice Part of Town (2 rooms) - Owned

+ [The Black Labyrinth] You know the ins and outs of the sewers. You know how to get in and out of the city unseen, if not necessarily unsmelled.

>Job:

+ Charles Whitecity - Swordtrainer (3 Silver / Turn)

>Bonuses:

- [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

+ [A House United] Gain +5 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +10 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

>Flaws:

+ [Aging] You become older every year and slowly your skill at arms begins to degrade. The guilt and ridicule do nothing to improve the situation. It's only rubbing more salt into old wounds.

Post preference: As long as makes sense for fluff given.

Fluffpost coming as an addon SOON(tm), but I want to establish that I am alive here first.

1. First of all, I need move to form strategy with the Guard proper - ideally, to turn the Horselords back here would shatter their advance. As one of few who've fought the bastards and lived - out of respect and stupidity, but still - it's not just my desire, but my duty to do all I can in educating and assorting the men of the city in anti-Uhlmannen combat. My warnings have come true, and there is no time to act on them such as now. The close position I hold in the city should allow fairly easy access to the barracks of the city guard, where I ought go.

2. As I meet individually with many members of the house and work to coalesce our family efforts, I ought work on my own fencing as well. I will need it soon enough; far too soon for mine own comfort.

>>35202

(Talking to Teren, whenever either of you show up is a free action and just something you can do inbetween you two)

[Talking to Natasha]

You have a quick conversation with the girl. You have a number of minor disagreements on some ambiguous passages of the Holy Book, mostly when it comes to making amends for one's sins. While you make a point about serving the Lord in Life and serving to repay for the deeds you have done Natasha is quick to find a number of sins she is adamant can only be atoned for by burning in the Fires of Hell.

[Talking to Talvi]

You try to convince Talvi to see reason and return to the arms of the church to once and for all atone for his sins. However it would appear Talvi has everything but forgotten your last encounter. The formerly feeble man seems to have grown with his injuries. Something is different about him for certain, though you could not put a finger on it.

He scoffs at your words, "The Blind rule us, the Wicked judge us and the Mindless enforce their laws. By what right does the Sinner offer Absolution? By what right do the Corrupted judge what is Corrupt?".

[Talking to Oo'ka B'aa]

It would appear your Cousin had travelled a long way. He had done well for himself and mostly kept out of trouble. There had been a fight with an able Spearman Oo'ka B'aa had lost, however from his storytelling you conclude that the Spearman had only sought the fight itself and no other gain beyond that.

The tall man appears well versed in the tongue of your lands, though an accent remains, furthermore you discover that he has advanced understandings of herbal medicine. Though you cannot tell how much there is to be learned from the medicine men of the far South.

As for the matter of how he managed to prove his innocence, as it would appear there had been more than a single man of dark skin color and tall build in the city which had been sufficient evidence for your Red Cloak to drop charges that were solely based on the idea of judging Oo'kaa B'aa on his skin color.

>>35128

Turmhill released you with an awkward nod, without as much as turning around for a last time you were already out of his office and down a flight of stairs, passing by a young boy on your way down. Leaving the Turmhill Manor with quick steps you earned a few suspicious looks, one of the guards must have suspected something and ran inside, possibly to check on Turmhill. You had no time to ease his concerns, instead you sped up, a quick jog turning into a sprint. Behind you you could hear one of the Turmhill Guards shout something, he was ready to chase you down but the other one whistled and yelled at him to come back.

Making your way through the streets you headed to a small house, pushing yourself through the door and rather surprisingly ending up in what looked like the Nation assembly you could have sworn a market crier yell about not too long ago. A number of familiar faces, Bartholomew, Ophelia's brother, next to him Natasha, a by any standard beautiful young woman and next to her Ophelia herself. Her eyelids were flickering a little before she calmly took a sip of her wine. You could feel an odd vibration in the air as if a cloud of Doom had just dissipated.

Nervously looking around you tried to spot any imminent threats, though despite other members of the Nation family nobody seemed to be present. You took a deep breath. Perhaps this had all just been a false Alarm?

(You can interact with any of the people described as attending the Nation Family Assembly in the last update, as well as Zeorna (WM) )

>Skills:

+ Running (4)

+ Influence [Whitecastle] (3)

>>35154

(You attend the assembly, you may interact freely with any of the characters listed as attending the Assembly in the Last Update as well as Wikiver (Random) )

Thanks to your brutish power you are quickly recruited by the Whitecastle Soldiers to assist in setting up wooden frameworks meant to protect archers from overhead fire. With your assistance work proceeds quicker than initially anticipated and you gain some favor with the Whitecastle Soldiers as a result.

As you headed for Ash's chambers you noticed something peculiar. Passing by an open room you heard two people argue. The background noise of the soldiers still training in the Castle's courtyard drowned out a lot of it and you didn't want to get spotted snooping around in other peoples' business but you could distinctly make out that it was something about a baby. Something about real parents and something more about "keeping up appearances for now" and "clearing her name later". You couldn't exactly do a lot with that information but choose to either investigate or just let it slide in the end.

Heading on you looked around a few times to make sure nobody had caught you listening, but from the looks of it you were in the clear. Quickly you headed to Lord Ash's chambers. Guards were posted out in front, though none that you would recognize. From inside you could hear the sound of metal hitting metal. It would appear he was training with somebody. The Guards eyed you with some suspicion as you stopped instead of moving on.

>Skills:

+ Construction (4)

+ Sneaking (5)

+ Influence [Turmhill] (20) - Adding this because of your overall service

>>37421

>>35178

Passing through Ratwater you looked around, numerous women were offering up their services and though you passed here pretty much every day there was always a new face waiting to earn some money. You assumed that unsurprisingly many of them were refugees from the villages, after all the Church could only feed so many of them and farmer's daughters weren't exactly the hottest work force on an already overly saturated market. Once more you could not help but feel that your education was going to waste.

Smoothly you navigated through a little group of children, one hand firmly placed on your purse. They were carrying sharpened sticks chasing after a rat like those far Southern Savages. Immediately you had to wonder whether by the end of the conflict even a single masterless mut would be left in the city. A short look over to a bunch of shady men in cloaks peddling meat of questionable origin to various rag clad men and women answered the question for you.

Of course you had managed to make your way to whatever you were right now with nothing but rags as well, but when you came into the city it hadn't been flooded with people like you. Besides you had a head start on these farmers. You had learned to read, write, do math and well.. fight. Your hand wandered over the ornate grip of your Father's Sword. Lost in thought you stared at a small group of Turmhill soldiers passing you. Two of them made kissy faces, a pointless gesture when women that were literally offering what they were asking for for nothing but a token payment were all around you. However it was not the two loud mouthed cunts that got your attention, it was the guy who was staring right at you grinning like an idiot.

"Fits me, doesn't it?", he addressed you just as he had almost passed, leaving you standing there, turned over your shoulder to look at him pass. For a few more seconds you stood there dumbfounded, then it hit you like lightning. He was a mercenary. A member of Scherer's Pack to be more specific. Scherer's Pack was larger than your average Band of Brigands and certainly better organized, you didn't know every single member by heart, but you knew most of their faces. For one of his guys to just jump off to join some other guys employment and in such a situation none the less just seemed off to you.

With a sigh you carried on your patrol. Not like it was any of your business. You had left that family behind just as you had left behind your other kin. An uncomfortable realization to come to. Passing by a small group of Second Line volunteers you exchanged a number of obligatory insults, though neither you nor them seemed willing to escalate the situation any further beyond superficial namecalling.

Finally finishing your round you ended back up at the place you had conducted your fights in. At leas the Bartender offered you a free beer. Though Davi had claimed there were no benefits to this job you were already reaping the rewards.

>Skills:

+ Influence [Ratwater Guard] (5)

>>37422

>>35187

Establishing contact with the Whitecastle Commander proved easier than expected, he was overseeing his soldiers training in the Courtyard which was filled with a considerable number of soldiers the Whitecastle Family had managed to recruit. Though he was younger than you and provided you with a refreshing amount of respect you could tell he was put off by your rather high opinion of yourself. He agreed that he would "hear what you have to say", though he would make no promises.

Establishing contact with the Whitecitys however proved to be a lot less smooth. A number of people repeatedly insisted on recalling something about a guy shouting "I am the night.", and when somebody talked about you suggesting a plan on tackling the Uhlmannen Siege one City Guard Captain was reported as breaking out in hysterical laughter.

>Skills:

+ Influence [Whitecastle] (1)

+ Influence [Turmhill] (20) - Adding this because of your overall service

>>35224

It took you a while to find an Armorsmith who didn't outright refuse to open your door. The man was oddly clean shaven and for a moment you doubted he could even grow a beard. Here and there you noticed his daughters moving through the place. Ignoring the distractions you tried a number of old bartering tricks, however even though you flattered and appealed to any sense he may or may not have he simply would not consider your request. He was already behind in working on the many requests he had received by Turmhill, Whitecastle and Whitecity. All of them were trying to put weapons into the hands of the countless refugees they had managed to hire to fight their battles for them.

With a sigh you gave up and smacked your heavy purse onto the table before the smith. "Not the most subtle way of doing things.", the smith murmured, but it was clear that the purse you had used to store your coin was filled to the brim. Begrudgingly he agreed to your terms. He would prioritize your request, after all you just wanted a single suit of armor. It would barely be noticed in the grand scheme of things.

He had just the right design in mind, however of course since you were already offering to buy out of the normal order of payment it would cost you. The idea was a Flexible version of the trusted Reinforced Leather design, it would suffer especially when it came to protecting joints, however it would barely hinder your mobility and provide decent protection for your chest as well as some protection for your arms and legs. The entire thing would cost you an acceptable 6 silvers.

>You can buy a "Flexible Reinforced Leather Armor" for 6 Silver

>Skills:

+ Barter (4)

>>35608

You utilized your role as Swordtrainer of Charles Whitecity to lowly let the idea of advanced Uhlmannen Countering tactics seep into their mindset. Here and there you taught the boy about the Uhlmannen charges and how to best anticipate them. And while the boy seemed not particularly interested some of the guards had at least shown limited interest in what you had to say. Now and again one or two of them passed by to attend your training sessions and listen to what you had to teach him. Though not a great advance it was a start none the less.

You took the opportunity to challenge some of the guards once you were done with the boy. They proved more than worthy opponents as from the looks of it the Whitecitys were guarding themselves with the best the city had to offer. In the end there was no prestige to be lost, you were already an aging man after all, taking on much younger opponents. Still you could see the self-complacent smiles the men tried to hide.

The personal protectors of the Whitecity family had learned a number of things today and so had you.

>Skills:

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (2)

+ Swordfighting (3)

+ Influence [Whitecity] 20 - Awarded now for lengthy Service

>>37423

In light of not a lot of time having passed *cough* this will be treated as an irrelevant amount of time, the global timeline has not advanced.

>>37424

>Update this soon

>Have nothing because I've put it off

Hey, WD. Do you think I could please have 3 or 4 actions this turn, since I'm an idiot? Thanks.

>>37472

Sure, do 4.

Rolled 28, 67 = 95 (2d100)

>>37422

Fluff: Vivian was alone crying in the rubble. The mercenaries hired to destroy the castle decided that grabbing a baby girl to "use" once she grows up seemed like a sound idea. That was until they realized that they had spent so much time and effort taking care of this girl, that they couldn't rape her. By the time she was 18 she was already fighting like the best of them. When one of the men finally got pissed at her one day and told her how they all raped and killed most of her family, torched her home, and even stole her fathers sword, she took it quiet well. She ripped out the throat of the one who told her, took the sword off of his corpse, and told the others she was going to need some "alone time", but considering her personality that was very rational.

Inventory:+ Father's Sword

+ Plain Clothes (Female) [Wearing]

+ Plain Clothes (Male)

Money: 45 Copper, 2 Silver

Skills:

+ Swordfighting (50)

+ Survival (50)

Flaws:+ [Hard Goodbye] You are not exactly on good terms with your old mercenary band and word travels fast. This may be trouble in the long run.

Bonus:

+ [Tough Girl] You're a tough girl, you've spent your life on the road and don't mind eating moldy food from time to time. Though you do still have some bonding issues this will assist you further in combat and survival.

Skills:+ Drinking (4)

+ Intimidate (4)

+ Hand to Hand (30)

+ Girl Talk (8)

+ Being a douche (5)

Drinking (20)

+ Eavesdropping (1)

+ Butterfacing (10)

+ Dodge (1)

+ Relations - Fighting Pit (15)

Job:

+ Warehouse Guardian (+ 6 Copper / Turn)

Vivian's theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXyuH1yx5g8

1: To some, passing out in a bar after a night of drinking would be the moment in which they would reevaluate their lives. But to Vivian it was Tuesday. Which also meant it's time for work. Patrolling the district, antagonizing Second Line, and curing a hangover.

2: What better to follow a night of drinking than a night of drinking AND fighting. Vivian saunters her way back into the arena and see who challenges her tonight.

Rolled 67, 54, 83, 92 = 296 (4d100)

>>35114

Name: Aethelric Nation

Fluff: After the Uhlmannen burned Nation castle and destroyed the livelihood of the noble family, Aethelric (Once a veritable social butterfly) became more withdrawn, sometimes disappearing from the group for long periods of time before returning, sometimes with new trinkets, and sometimes with whiskey on his breath. He has a weakness for alcohol, which causes problems at times. It’s generally a good idea to keep him away from bars. However, when consulted, he always seems to know the best vintages and batches from wineries and breweries across the land. So that’s a plus. Unfortunately, they’re almost all insanely expensive. So that’s a minus. He used to be proud of the noble blood that ran in his veins, but now it means little more to him than the clothes on his back, serving as a painful reminder of easier, happier times.

>Inventory:

+ 2x Finecraft Family Dagger

+ 5 Loaves of Bread

+ 2 Copper

+ 1 Almost full bottle of Whiskey

+ Document of Banking (19 Silver - The Juhs)

+ Scroll Case

+ Bill of Ownership - 12 Pigs (Whitecities)

>Skills:

+ Daggering (25)

+ Disguise (60)

+ Drinking (30)

+ Kindness (1)

+ Lying (6)

+ Sneaking (36)

+Stealing (2)

+ Alcohol Knowledge (25)

>Flaws:

+ [Alcoholic] You can hardly go without alcohol for more than a few hours before you start to get nervous. Longer periods of time without alcohol can grow into serious sickness, as well as concentration issues, vomiting, shivers etc.

>Bonuses:

+ [Second Liver] You have been drinking so much your tolerance has grown to incredible levels. While certainly this would not be healthy for any other human being you can easily outdrink most and will suffer much less from alcohol and some other sorts of poisoning.

+ [Poor Sod] People just naturally tend to feel sorry for you. This can come with some advantages if you don't mind being pitied a lot.

1/2/3/4. Aethelric recognized that the situation required clear thinking. Swiftly grabbing a chair, he jammed it under the doorknob, blocking the two into the room. "You see, I honestly have no idea what's going on, and you have no idea where to go from here. We should put our heads together, and get out of here. I've no strong connection to my kin beyond the ties necessitated by being related by people. Fact is, people want to kill you, I want a reward for saving you, and I don't want any harm to come to you. If you try to go anywhere looking and acting like this, you're going to wind up headless in a gutter more quickly than you can blink." The drunk takes a swig from his whiskey bottle. "I happen to see a way down from here without breaking your ankle. I also have a disguise I can give to you if you're inclined to take me up on my offer."

IF THE NOBLEMAN ACCEPTS AETHELRIC'S OFFER:

The skulking rogue empties his coat's pockets, and hands it to the messenger, also removing his eyepatch to complete the disguise. After a quick scan of the room, looking for something to steal, he joins the panicked man on the roof. "Alright, what I want you to do is face the window, and let yourself slide down the roof. When you reach the edge, grab it, and hang off. The drop from there should be low enough to be harmless. Once we're down, I need you to follow me closely. If you lose me in the alleys, you're as good as dead, even if you manage to shake your assassins. From there, we can head to shelter in the sewers, or some other such place where nobody wishes to venture. Then, you can explain everything to me. Y'understand? Great. Let's go.

IF THE NOBLEMAN REFUSES AETHELRIC'S OFFER:

Aethelric shrugs. "Suit yourself, man. It's your funeral. Literally." Taking everything of value from the room and stuffing it into his coat, the noble thief takes the barricade away from the door, and leisurely strolls out of the inn. If he acts naturally enough, he can get away. The nobleman is no longer his problem. He was a lead which didn't pan out.

test

>>40261

Yes, he said he would if enough people posted.

Rolled 16, 75 = 91 (2d100)

Esteemed Members of the nation family, I have devised a plan to break the Horsemen army, and have the support of one of the most wealthy men in the city. With your help we can secure the support of the nobles as well, and deliver unto the barbarians the same death and dishonor that they did us in burning our homeland and slaughtering our family! What say you, fine members of the Nation Family?

Name: Tacitus Nation

>Fluff: Once a proud commander of the Empire, Tacitus was a renowned centurion famous for his subjugation and elimination of the savage barbarians of the wilderness, his campaigns and conquest brought much land to the Empire, and many men to drive it's war-machine, but then something changed. The once disorganized and master-less brutes rushed forth in uncountable numbers, as if driven by some unknown force so magnificent in its power and cruelty that it forced the unkempt masses to overrun the empires borders, razing the towns and cities to the ground, slaughtering it's villages and people wholesale. It was outside the Empire's capital, a city of seven hills, the Tacitus saw the fall of the man, and with his family and the remains of his legion he set out west, the final vestiges of a fallen glory. He and his men and some refugees, people he now considers his family after the daunting journey they took to get here, now find themselves in-front of a city which name is not known to them, and hope to regain the lives they lost to the fires of war.

>Inventory: [Rune-fang]/[Ancestral long sword] - It belonged to Tacitus father, and his father before him, and his father before him, it's material composition is unknown, and the shines with and ancient power unknown to man.

+ Spear

+ Turmhill Lieutenant Leather Armor

+ Iron Sword

+ 2 Reinforced Leather Armor

>Skills:

+ Leadership (77)

+ Sword-fighting (33)

+ Charisma (9)

+Justice (2)

+ Batshit Crazy (3)

- Loyalty (1) (note the minus)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (6)

+ Shield Tactics (5)

+ Disguise (2)

+ Influence [Whitecastle] (1)

+ Influence [Turmhill] (20) - Adding this because of your overall service

>Flaws:

+ [Big-headed] You think a lot of yourself and that is quite self evident to the people around you, some will be intimidated but many will find it annoying. You also tend to attribute victories to your own tactical superiority.

>Bonuses:

+ [Commander with a Heart of Gold] Whenever you lead men you try to prevent needless casualties and this is a trait very valued by those who serve under you who in turn rarely care for your bigheadedness. As a side effect loosing men in battle and family members hits you especially hard on an emotional level.

+ [A House United] Gain +5 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +10 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

>Job:

25 Silver

+ Turmhill Lieutenant (+ 3 Silver / Turn)

>Troops:

+ 3x 12 Turmhill Soldiers (includes Wikiver)

+ 5 War Wagons

1/2. The Time for talk had ended, the time for night and might had come, no longer could Tacitus stand idly by and watch another land fall to the horsemen scum. He would emerge from the sewers of the city, in the dead of night, and make way for the horse lords camp. Once there, he would set fire to their tents, before retreating in the ensuing commotion, back into the city, ensuring that he was not followed.

Rolled 13, 9 = 22 (2d100)

>>37423

Name: Ophelia Nation

Fluff:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4JxChxvHrU

Ophelia is the model Lady, prim, proper, well mannered, and aloof. And like every Proper Lady she has a dark secret. Ophelia has been taken by the Occult, it fascinates her, the ideas of demons and aberrations existing sends shivers of excitement down her spine. It was not long before she was swept up by a Demonic Cult. Though Secretive and hard to Find they welcomed her into their ranks and her rise within them was rapid, some would say blessed by the very demons they worship. Though her position at the moment is tenuous due to the loss of home and fortune Ophelia is certain that she will keep her position and possibly find temporary housing within a cult member's estate.

Inventory:

+ The Black Tome of Nation

+Well Made Dress

>Home:

+ Von Pissen Residence

Skills:

+ Noble Customs (77)

+ Occult Knowledge (115)

Flaws:

- [Fascinated] Life as a proper lady is incredibly dull and sometimes you are perhaps a bit too excited about the various things you do that concern your cult. You feel the urge to share at least some of the things you know, may it be in sharing it over a cup of tea with a friend or giving ominous warnings to people. Beware you don't talk to much or someone might have to die.

+[A Favor Owed] You bear its Mark. You hear its Voice. You see with its Eyes. The Black Abyss speaks to you.

Bonuses:

+ [The Apocyan Sigil] You are a member of the Apocyan Sigil, a secret society devoted to uncovering the secrets surrounding demons and other evil spirits. While it mostly consists of nobles who want to be elitist in some form and enjoy the secrecy that goes along with the cult's practices the members of the upper circles remain unknown to you. You know various secret signs to identify cult members as well as the basic rituals associated with it.

Family Trait:

+ [A House United] Gain +5 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +10 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

>Updates:

+Long

1. Suggest to a few of the more military minded members of the family that you had heard rumors of the barbarians infiltrating the city via the sewers and then leave the gathering

2. We should check on Von Pissen and ensure that he got out just fine, also collect my things from his manor, the Family has a residence of our own so I will no longer need to impose on Lord von Pissen's hospitality.

>>37757

You make your way around town patrolling. People look gloomy and everywhere you see people barricading their homes as if to prepare for a storm. Surely no Uhlmannen invader would be turned away by some pieces of wood covering up some windows. Then again, perhaps it served as a protection against looting which was inevitably going to happen as time passed and food became more and more scarce.

While you consider antagonizing some of the Second Line guys here and there they usually show up in groups and it would probably best not to get yourself into a fight you're not going to win. Instead you choose to pick a fight you can win. You go up against another woman, a local no doubt. Already having some experience when it comes to swinging your fists you make quite a show of dispatching of her. People cheer you on and once more you are champion of the arena.

>Skills:

+ Hand to Hand (3)

>>37771

The Diplomat wanted to protest but he had little choice but to accept your offer. He almost elegantly got into position to drop himself down onto the pavement as you scanned the room with a trained eye, spotting a small purse, you quickly emptied it under the Noble's hollow protests. Then following him out the window.

Landing on the pavement you heard something break. Quickly you pushed the Diplomat into an alleyway, grabbed your belongings and handed the now empty coat and eyepatch to the man who quickly donned the new clothing, yet he did not seem to greatly appreciate its smell. All part of the disguise of course.

You proceeded to hurry off, people gave you a look or two but cripples and drunk wastrels were nothing new to the people of the City. Looking overy your shoulder between a few sips of your Whiskey bottle you managed to locate the nearest sewer entrance and quickly forced the man down into the stinking wet.

Descending into the cool darkness of the Sewers you became overwhelmed by the stench for a few seconds, leaning against the almost slimy wall to recover, immediately wishing you still had that coat of yours. The Noble seemed to be taking it about as badly as you did, if not worse, coughing a few times under the ball of cloth he had formed to breathe through. For the first time you noticed that the sewers themselves were actually not as dark as you had expected them to be, something in the water was giving your surroundings a soft green glow.

"So what now?", the Diplomat asked, clearly distraught at his current accomodation.

>Inventory:

+ 2 Silver

- 1 Almost full bottle of Whiskey

+ 1 Half-Full bottle of Whiskey

>Skills:

+ Climbing (3)

+ Sneaking (4)

+ Disguise (3)

>>39969

The Smith looked at you with a rather confused look on his face. "There are plenty of taverns you can stay in for much less than that.", rubbing his chin he shrugged, "I'm not going to turn that offer down, but if you plan on staying there are some rules you will have to abide by.".

"First.", he put out one finger, "Stay away from my daughters. Second.", he put out another finger, "Stay away from my wares, I'm a busy man and I don't need you meddling with anything. And thirdly.", he put out a third finger, "Don't bring people here. This isn't some tavern you can fuck your whores in.", for a moment he seemed to be thinking but came to the conclusion that there was nothing else to add.

You write down a letter with your various experiences regarding the Uhlmannen and their tactics as well as how to counter them and hand the letter of to a messanger boy who you are certain will make his way to the Whitecastles in time. Then you proceed to look around the Blacksmith's house for a place to train sufficiently. Unfortunately the house is not particularly large. Most of the lower level is taken up with the smithy, the living quarters being upstairs. The smith cleared a room out for you that will suffice for staying there, still your movement is too restricted for any extensive combat training, especially your speer seems hampered by such little space.

(actually noticed too late that you said short ones, I'll make them short the next time)

>Housing:

+ Staying with Smith (-1 Silver/turn)

>Inventory:

- 7 Silver

+ 5 Copper

+ Flexible Reinforced Leather Armor

>Skills:

+ Polearms (1)

>>41984

You grabbed Wikiver and made for the camps, however to your great displeasure you noticed that they had set up guard posts, eyeing the surrounding landscape and many men, glaring towards the castle walls. Certainly it would take much skill and a healthy amount of blind luck to find a weakspot to try and slip undetected. It would seem the Uhlmannen had made some experience when it came to having their tents burnt under the cover of night in the not all too distant past.

(Additional Info: You have been informed by Ophelia (Teren) that there are rumors that the Uhlmannen are actually trying to infiltrate the city through the sewers)

>Skills:

+ Sneaking (2)

>>42003

As there are plenty militarily inclined members in the family you try your luck however a great many of them seem to have had been overly indulgent when it came to the matter. Sigurd himself actually assured you with some broad hand gestures that the labyrinth that was the sewers was far too complicated to navigate for the savages and that there was no way they would manage to find the proper access points. He went on to claim that the air down there was so rotten no man could even survive it for more than a day. You then pass it on to just about any other male family member that would listen to you, though Middus seemed to actually believe you. Who knew, maybe the self indulgent wastrel would actually do something about it after all.

You then left the feast and headed out into the cool early morning hours. The moon was gleaming softly on the street before you. Now that you had a place to stay there was no need to burden Von Pissen any longer. Quickly you began your journey towards his house, however the streets seemed to twist and dance before you, with every turn you took you became a little more lost. Houses began to turn themselves and before you they formed a tunnel. You followed through, above you no sky but mortar and brick, windows of houses people lived their lives in, going on as usual unswayed by the fact that they were twistedly flying in the air.

Eventually you reached your destination. Before you was a little fountian, sitting on its edge was a man, shadows scurried over his skin. "Ophelia my love.", a deep, familiar voice greeted you, "How good of you to come visit me.", the houses had formed a circle around you now, they were vibrating with every word that seeped through his lips, "Could you get a little something for me?", suddenly he was upon you, holding your hands in his, his grasp was as firm and his hands as cold as rock, his imposing stature, towering above you, "Bring me a dead rodent, would you?".

The image of you smashing a rat with a rock suddenly shot through your mind. You blinked a few times. A dead rodent? You looked around. You were standing in front of the Von Pissen residence. Your ankles felt wet as you stepped inside. Oddly enough it would seem not a single member of the household was here. Quickly packing your things you left behind the empty manor. Something felt off, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

Rolled 22, 19, 26, 86 = 153 (4d100)

>>42114

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 33 copper

+ 19 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (67)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (58)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (7)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (20)

+ Shield Tactics (12)

+ Gather Information (5)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)

Flaws: + [Greedy] You have a hard time letting go of gold, people you have to pay do not appreciate this.

+ [Lustful +] You like a good tumble, this comes with some expertise in the area. Women find it hard to resist you however the feeling is mutual. Be careful not to hurt the ones you love.

Bonuses: [Wielder of the Dragon Fang] Your weapon is your father's blade. It is not magic, only a fool would believe that, but if handled right the blade dances almost as if alive, sneaking past scales of armor and cutting deep into enemy flesh. You've also never cut yourself on this one before.

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [Good Samarithan] You're a good guy and the ladies dig it.

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Update- Long

1-4. (missed turn)

Training montage.

Rolled 16, 75 = 91 (2d100)

>>42115

Name: Ophelia Nation

Fluff:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4JxChxvHrU

Ophelia is the model Lady, prim, proper, well mannered, and aloof. And like every Proper Lady she has a dark secret. Ophelia has been taken by the Occult, it fascinates her, the ideas of demons and aberrations existing sends shivers of excitement down her spine. It was not long before she was swept up by a Demonic Cult. Though Secretive and hard to Find they welcomed her into their ranks and her rise within them was rapid, some would say blessed by the very demons they worship. Though her position at the moment is tenuous due to the loss of home and fortune Ophelia is certain that she will keep her position and possibly find temporary housing within a cult member's estate.

Inventory:

+ The Black Tome of Nation

+Well Made Dress

>Home:

+ Von Pissen Residence

Skills:

+ Noble Customs (77)

+ Occult Knowledge (115)

Flaws:

- [Fascinated] Life as a proper lady is incredibly dull and sometimes you are perhaps a bit too excited about the various things you do that concern your cult. You feel the urge to share at least some of the things you know, may it be in sharing it over a cup of tea with a friend or giving ominous warnings to people. Beware you don't talk to much or someone might have to die.

+[A Favor Owed] You bear its Mark. You hear its Voice. You see with its Eyes. The Black Abyss speaks to you.

Bonuses:

+ [The Apocyan Sigil] You are a member of the Apocyan Sigil, a secret society devoted to uncovering the secrets surrounding demons and other evil spirits. While it mostly consists of nobles who want to be elitist in some form and enjoy the secrecy that goes along with the cult's practices the members of the upper circles remain unknown to you. You know various secret signs to identify cult members as well as the basic rituals associated with it.

Family Trait:

+ [A House United] Gain +5 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +10 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

>Updates:

+Long

1. Something to possibly look into later, for now return to the Family Residence with my things, find a room to claim as my own and place what personal affects I have there

2. It is time I achieve a proper wardrobe, inquire about using some of the family funds or possibly Middus will be willing to lend his cousin some funds for a proper wardrobe.

Rolled 44, 95 = 139 (2d100)

>>42114

Fluff: Vivian was alone crying in the rubble. The mercenaries hired to destroy the castle decided that grabbing a baby girl to "use" once she grows up seemed like a sound idea. That was until they realized that they had spent so much time and effort taking care of this girl, that they couldn't rape her. By the time she was 18 she was already fighting like the best of them. When one of the men finally got pissed at her one day and told her how they all raped and killed most of her family, torched her home, and even stole her fathers sword, she took it quiet well. She ripped out the throat of the one who told her, took the sword off of his corpse, and told the others she was going to need some "alone time", but considering her personality that was very rational.

Inventory:+ Father's Sword

+ Plain Clothes (Female) [Wearing]

+ Plain Clothes (Male)

Money: 69 Copper, 2 Silver

Skills:

+ Swordfighting (50)

+ Survival (50)

Flaws:+ [Hard Goodbye] You are not exactly on good terms with your old mercenary band and word travels fast. This may be trouble in the long run.

Bonus:

+ [Tough Girl] You're a tough girl, you've spent your life on the road and don't mind eating moldy food from time to time. Though you do still have some bonding issues this will assist you further in combat and survival.

Skills:+ Drinking (4)

+ Intimidate (4)

+ Hand to Hand (30)

+ Girl Talk (8)

+ Being a douche (5)

Drinking (20)

+ Eavesdropping (1)

+ Butterfacing (10)

+ Dodge (1)

+ Relations - Fighting Pit (15)

Job:

+ Warehouse Guardian (+ 6 Copper / Turn)

1: Vivian is starting to get a bit cockey with her fighting. She begins placing bets on herself over whether or not she'll win. Try to make some dosh and humiliate some fools.

2:The next morning she awakens covered in blood and sweat, and hopefully that's it. She starts up her patrol around the slums of the city keeping an eye out for criminals to beat up. Or whatever it is she's supposed to do.

Rolled 82, 67 = 149 (2d100)

>>35114

Name: Eric Nation

Fluff: Eric is a tall and lanky young man, standing a full head's length above your average person. Not that you'd notice it. Ever since his birth He's just sort of blended into the background. People see him, they just don't recognize he's actually there. Many times in his life he's walked up to people in full view and nearly given the heart attacks by speaking to them. It's not something he does with intent, it's just that he's so unassuming and unimportant in most people's minds they don't recognize him being there. The fact he was also 7th born son to his father, along with his own nature of being beneath notice meant his schooling in matters politic and in arms was lacking. However when the invasion came he was handy enough with his Grandfather's dagger to surprise and kill several soldiers before ditching his clothes for peasants rags and blending into the horde of refuges fleeing the land.

>>Inventory

+ Grandfather's Ornate Dagger (Sharpened)

+ Grandfather's Dagger (No Ornament, Flawless Copy)

+ Plain Clothes (in closet)

+ Servants Clothing (wearing)

+ 182 Copper

+ Lilith's Iron Flower

>>Skills:

+ Spotting (5)

+ Daggering (38)

+ Noble Customs (62)

+ Sneaking (50)

+ Stealing (6)

+ Running (58)

+ Haggling (6)

+ Climbing (3)

+ Disguise (2)

>Flaws:

+ [Forgettable] You were made to be forgotten. While guards will often forget your face and you can get lost in large crowds easily this is horrible for heroic speeches, begging or finding true love.

+ Enemy [Blueberry Tom]

>Bonuses:

+ [Unassuming] You are rarely accused of doing anything, largely because people don't care or expect you to have done anything. Also bonus to sneaking

>Job

+ Servant(Spy) - Whitecastles (15 Copper / Turn)

Patron Sir Alistair

>Holdings:

+ House near Market (4 rooms) - Owned

>Updates:

+ Long

>Family Trait:

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

1. Just watch the proceedings and make small talk with my family. It's good to se them all. If any of their situations need input or aid offer some words of advice for potential to help.

2. I doubt I'm the only person here going to report on my family's dealings to a patron. Find the ones who do not belong and memorize them to report.

>>42116

You have a chat with a bunch of people, your demeanor and dialect raise some eyebrows, after all they're looking for a barbarian fitting your physical description to hand over to the people laying siege to the city, however nobody seems to actually believe you're the guy everybody is looking for. Everybody seems on edge about the siege preperations going on and in the slums the Ratwater Guard and the Second Line seem to be vying for power.

You roll around, jump and dodge all you can in some back alley where nobody is watching you. You make some progress, however without anyone trying to actually hit you you do feel a little silly.

>Skills:

+ Charisma (3)

+ Dodge (4)

>>42117

Your training montage SUCKS. Still towards the end you pull it together and end up making some progress. Your [insert family relation here] orders you to join him in moving down into the sewers. After spending a while wandering around the rather spooky wet dark you finally manage to find what you had been looking for. A small group of Uhlmannen who apparently set up some form of camp, possibly trying to wait until the right time to stage their assault.

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (2)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (2)

>>42135

Searching every inch of the sewers proved to be much more unrealistic than you first expected. Making your way through the wet dark, your minds clouded by noxious fumes the long halls seem to be playing tricks on you. Silent shadows on the walls, unseen creatures slithering through the brown-greenish waters, the sound of water dropping form the ceiling. A figure in white in the distance. There for a moment, gone in the next.

Eventually you turn a corner and come upon a camp. A small group of Uhlmannen, perhaps eight. It was hard to tell how long they had been here, several days, safe to say. Surely they had been waiting for the perfect time to strike which apparently had not come yet.

>Skills:

+ Sneaking (6)

>>42162

You have few items to call your own. However what little you have you find and place within an empty room. Certainly if all family members chose to stay here you would find that there was little space to accomodate them all, however aside from Middus and Sigurd nobody else had chosen to stay here for an extended period of time. Some dirty trails seemed to indicate that potentially Vivian had been around here as well.

When you ask whether Middus would be willing to purchase some new clothing for you he seems to be trembling at the thought of spending money. You spend the day out in the city, acting as any noble woman should. Food prices being high many of the tailors seemed to try and get rid of whatever they could sell to at least earn their daily bread. You manage to procure three noble new dresses, which Middus more than happily agrees to pay for. So much charitability could impossibly be a sin.

>Inventory:

+ 3 Noble Dresses

>>42186

You use the opportunity to bet on yourself to make some money, however unfortunately for you it would seem not many are willing to bet against you and thus your gains remain little, while still you retain your winning spree.

The next day you decide to go about your duty and patrol the streets of the city to make sure everyone behaved appropriately. People seemed to be getting desperate, going to great lengths to conserve whatever amounts of food they could.

After a bit of uneventuful eyeing the occasional Second Line patrol you see the big burly guy with the blueberry tattoo from the underground tavern wave you over into a shady corner. Naturally curious as you were you complied. As inconspicuous as a pair of obvious crooks could be he gave you a little insight on his current plans. He wanted to use the sewers to get out of the city and smuggle some food back in. Nobles and traders would pay themselves stupid to get their hands on what they believed to be the last food reserves of the city.

If you wanted the operation had a spot open for you. They needed someone to keep their eyes open and make sure that the transports got along smoothly. That and lend a hand in the transportation itself if need be. It was a foolproof plan, really. Easy money in your pocket.

>Inventory:

+ 6 Copper

>Relations:

+ Fighting Pit (5)

+ Ratwater Guard (5) <- Should now be at least 10

>>42197

You mingle with the family some more. You probably should not have been surprised at the fact that most of them seem to remember you with relative ease. For all that could be said about your family you were survivors, you could hardly point at anyone who struggled to adapt to the new conditions, barring some rather exceptional exceptions.

Naturally Sigurd offers you to stay in the family home, while Middus takes the opportunity to share with you too tales of his recent achievements which you had the feeling were inflated to say the least. There was some preaching from Bartholomew and Natasha but it kept itself within reason. Meanwhile Aethelric stole some booze and then stole away himself to go about some other business.

To hold his speech Sigurd had sent off the Servants early and resorted to hand out wine and liquor on his own, however curiously enough you managed to catch the shadow of a face outside a window. It would appear one of the servants was staying close, listening in. Calmly you acted as if you had noticed nothing, disappearing into the crowd as you quickly made your way towards an exit.

Letting a few moments pass you made sure the culprit wasn't looking as you slipped out into the cool night. Observing him until finally he broke away from the window and walked off. Silently you followed him through the city's moonlight street, here and there refugees sleeping leaned against houses and huddled together. Surprisingly enough he didn't even seem to turn around until he cut a corner into an alleyway.

A few moments you remained outside until two large men and a struggling linen sack reappeared who then promptly walked off with quick steps, apparently rather unafraid that someone might notice. Naturally you followed them to a nice looking House, however once they entered and the door shut you heard nothing else from your little spy.

>Skills:

+ Spotting (3)

+ Sneaking (3)

Test

Rolled 8, 49 = 57 (2d100)

>>42205

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 33 copper

+ 19 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (69)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (58)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (7)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (22)

+ Shield Tactics (12)

+ Gather Information (5)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)

Flaws: + [Greedy] You have a hard time letting go of gold, people you have to pay do not appreciate this.

+ [Lustful +] You like a good tumble, this comes with some expertise in the area. Women find it hard to resist you however the feeling is mutual. Be careful not to hurt the ones you love.

Bonuses: [Wielder of the Dragon Fang] Your weapon is your father's blade. It is not magic, only a fool would believe that, but if handled right the blade dances almost as if alive, sneaking past scales of armor and cutting deep into enemy flesh. You've also never cut yourself on this one before.

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [Good Samarithan] You're a good guy and the ladies dig it.

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Update- Long

1&2. Kill all but the one who looks most like the possible leader. Take that guy alive if possible.

+Swordfighting (69)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (58)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (22)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

Rolled 52, 88 = 140 (2d100)

>>42206

Name: Ophelia Nation

Fluff:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4JxChxvHrU

Ophelia is the model Lady, prim, proper, well mannered, and aloof. And like every Proper Lady she has a dark secret. Ophelia has been taken by the Occult, it fascinates her, the ideas of demons and aberrations existing sends shivers of excitement down her spine. It was not long before she was swept up by a Demonic Cult. Though Secretive and hard to Find they welcomed her into their ranks and her rise within them was rapid, some would say blessed by the very demons they worship. Though her position at the moment is tenuous due to the loss of home and fortune Ophelia is certain that she will keep her position and possibly find temporary housing within a cult member's estate.

Inventory:

+ The Black Tome of Nation

+Well Made Dress

+ 3 Noble Dresses

>Home:

+ Von Pissen Residence

Skills:

+ Noble Customs (77)

+ Occult Knowledge (115)

Flaws:

- [Fascinated] Life as a proper lady is incredibly dull and sometimes you are perhaps a bit too excited about the various things you do that concern your cult. You feel the urge to share at least some of the things you know, may it be in sharing it over a cup of tea with a friend or giving ominous warnings to people. Beware you don't talk to much or someone might have to die.

+[A Favor Owed] You bear its Mark. You hear its Voice. You see with its Eyes. The Black Abyss speaks to you.

Bonuses:

+ [The Apocyan Sigil] You are a member of the Apocyan Sigil, a secret society devoted to uncovering the secrets surrounding demons and other evil spirits. While it mostly consists of nobles who want to be elitist in some form and enjoy the secrecy that goes along with the cult's practices the members of the upper circles remain unknown to you. You know various secret signs to identify cult members as well as the basic rituals associated with it.

Family Trait:

+ [A House United] Gain +5 to all rolls when Cooperating with other Family Members (NPCs), +10 if Cooperating with another Player. (Does not Stack)

>Updates:

+Long

1. Consult the black tome on these visions, as well as the strange occurrence I had the other day, with the rat

2. Seek out lord Von Pissen, there was no reason to be rude and not inform them of my departure simply because I now had a residence.

>>42225

You offer to train folks with their own Weapons in an Open Square near Dusk. Though nobody actually knows who you are a bunch of people show up seeking to be improved regardless. Several organizations for the defense of the City have sprung up already, amongst them the Ratwater Guard and the Second Line, one being a rag tag band of (sometimes ex) criminals and the other largely conscripted from the refugees by the church. The two have a less than pleasant relationship and their rivalry occasionally disturbs your training.

>Skills:

+ Polearms (2)

>>42228

Your (insert family relation) Tacticus, cuts off the dome of the head of the unlucky man closest to the entrance. Quickly he steps into the light, roaring in the gutural Uhlmannen language, you presume he is asking for their leader, however instead of receiving a response the Uhlmannen yell and begin to charge.

Swiftly you counter charged, unfortunately for you however in your attempt to quickly reach them you slip on the wet floor, your side covered in a disgusting slime. Quickly you focused and got back up, your eyes tearing up, almost blinded by the stench. The others had already reached the Uhlmannen and were cutting them down, even though Anti-Uhlmannen tactics weren't exactly applicable under these conditions extensive training had proven valuable. You arrive just in time to deliver the finishing blow on the last of them.

Quickly you search the camp where your party locates:

+ Valuables worth 2 Silver

+ A rudimentary map of the Area

+ Uhlmannen Clothing

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (4)

>>42230

You quickly surprise the man closest to the entrance, your family sword splitting the Uhlmannen's head with ease, sending his brain scattering across the floor as he hit the ground like a wet sack of potatoes. In a roaring tone you demanded to know their leader in your even cruder version of the already crude Uhlmannen tongue. For a moment they hesitated, their eyes wandering to the man who was lying on the slimy brick, his blood forming a pool around him. Then, yelling at the top of their lungs they charged.

Brave hearted you and your men counter charge though your (insert family relation here) Wikiver slips on the slimy floor. Quickly you dispose of the Uhlmannen, unfortu

>Skills:

+ Swordfighting (5)

+ Leadership (3)

>>42279

>>42232

The Tome shuddered and reeled under your Gaze. You had never noticed, but the it almost seemed alive. Quickly you skim through the old pages. How often had you consulted them before and yet, it felt like something had changed. Entire passages seemed to have been added, notes scribbled in on the side one more mad than the other.

You looked for passages about rats and while there were some notions of several Rat Gods, rituals of cannibalism and the like nothing specifically addressed visions about killing rats. The main subject here seemed to be an unstemable tide that washed away over individuals, gnawing at their bones, creeping into their orifices and so on and so forth. You had seen worse yourself.

A somewhat more important matter was Von Pissen. Clearly you had not acted in line with proper noble customs when you just abandoned the man who had treated you so kindly. Naturally as a member of the Apocyan Sigil you could have expected such actions, still in the same way he should have been able to expect a certain etiquette from you.

Not one to be rude you returned to the Von Pissen residence. The first thing you noticed was the absence of any guards. Von Pissen had never been the richest of Nobles, however even he had personal guards who ensured the Rabble did not get any funny ideas. Calmly you opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. By now you knew your way around here. An empty hallway greeted you.

With a few trained steps you ascended the stairs and made your way towards Von Pissen's personal office. The door had been opened slightly. As you pushed open the door you stopped dead in your tracks. Before you sat Von Pissen in his chair, one eye staring right at you, his mouth opened a little bit as if he was explaining something mundane.

The top right part of Von Pissen's face, including his other eye, was no more. Someone had smashed it in with tremendous force, the skull had been shattered into bits and pieces, pointing out of his brain like ceramic shards it would have probably taken a Warhammer to cause such fearsome damage. The evidence however, suggested otherwise. Wedged into his brain was a fist sized rock. You shuddered at the thought of what brute force would have been required to make this happen.

>Skills:

+ Occult Knowledge (3)

>>42294

>>42295

Sorry for double post, 8chan is being gay

Rolled 90, 79 = 169 (2d100)

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 33 copper

+ 21 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (73)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (58)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (7)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (22)

+ Shield Tactics (12)

+ Gather Information (5)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)

Flaws: + [Greedy] You have a hard time letting go of gold, people you have to pay do not appreciate this.

+ [Lustful +] You like a good tumble, this comes with some expertise in the area. Women find it hard to resist you however the feeling is mutual. Be careful not to hurt the ones you love.

Bonuses: [Wielder of the Dragon Fang] Your weapon is your father's blade. It is not magic, only a fool would believe that, but if handled right the blade dances almost as if alive, sneaking past scales of armor and cutting deep into enemy flesh. You've also never cut yourself on this one before.

+ [My Nation Sense Is Tingling] You have a sixth sense for your family members. Whenever they are in trouble you will get that feeling that something is not quite right and a general sense of the direction.

+ [Good Samarithan] You're a good guy and the ladies dig it.

+ [Principality of Dirt] Some tendencies exist, however no clear family traits have emerged as of now. Still people have grown more accustomed to you and the rapid ascension of your family has lend weight to your claim of nobility. People will treat you with more respect now, even though it is nowhere near the respect you actually deserve this is an improvement. If you continue to consolidate your family and unite your efforts you could even find yourself receiving a catchy nickname.

>Update- Long

1. Make sure the loot is evenly split between the men that participated.

2. Work on my footwork. I clearly need it.

Family Heirloom:

The Bow of Betsalamel (a.k.a. Betsy), a masterwork crossbow wielded by Betsalamel, a great hero and handed down through the family to Tarn. It is still in near-pristine condition due to its quality and regular maintenance by Tarn. Also as a result of its superior quality it can hit harder and be reloaded faster than the common crossbow.

>>42291

You offer Wikiver choice picks, however he nobly decides to distribute the findings among the men as evenly as possible. It would seem you made a good choice for second in command.

In a meeting with Turmhill you show him the map, he takes it as his own, while technically you could protest this it would probably not prove to be a wise choice. Either way you could rely on Sigurd's maps to navigate the sewers, however with the map in Turmhill's possession it would prove hard to determinate how much the Uhlmannen had already explored. Your initiative is rewarded with 20 pieces of silver.

The time to drill the men had come, for some reason the men had gotten the corpses out of the sewers, yet this provided you with a surprising opportunity. You used the dead men's armors to elaborate several weak spots within it. Enclosed spaces also proved to require a whole different approach, both for the Uhlmannen themselves as well as those who wished to counter them.

>Job:

+ 20 Silver

>Skills:

+ Enclosed Space Tactics (8)

+ Influence [Turmhill] (5)

>>42293

Tyrants and monarchs fret at the idea of a trained and weaponized public. They fear that the people who are the very foundation of their power will seek to empower themselves. The rulers of this city however were in no position to turn down any help they could get, should the Uhlmannen prove able to best the defenses of the city, the slaughter would see them reduced to little more than rulers in name.

Strangely enough it was you who had to protect their legacy, for they were men of narrow minds, fixated on commerce and intrigue, while you yourself were a Man of War. Sure enough, training proceeded as planned and though all sorts of rivalries existed within the rag tag bunch you trained it did not interfere with proceedings.

However even you had to acknowledge the fact that there was more to life than war, even though some held the opinion that all life was a struggle. The Smith who provided you with a place to stay proved rather resistant to your charms, while one of his daughters had taken an interest in you. Word around town was she had a thing for fighting men and calling her a respectable woman was perhaps taking it a bit far.

>Skills:

+ Influence [Weissstadt] (5)

+ Trainer (4)

+ Charisma (3)

>>42298

You decide to go for the simplest of approaches which was to split up the loot as evenly as you could. The men are very pleased with this and after selling off whatever other loot you found you end up with 5 pieces of copper for yourself. In Turmhill's organization based almost solely on money it was a common occurrence for officers to take the lion share of whatever they could get their hands on.

Finally you get to training your footwork. The display down in the Sewers had left you scarred. It would probably take a few more days for that stench to finally leave your nostrils, having come closer to the Sewer floor than any man ever should.

>Skills:

+ Loyalty (8)

+ Agility (4)

>Inventory:

+5 Copper

>>42317

You find yourself in a city under siege. At least that's the official version. Looking around the busy streets it feels like there are more soldiers within the city than laying siege to it from the outside.

Various factions are currently vying for power while trying to be sufficiently prepared for when the Uhlmannen will eventually try to scale the City walls.

>Skills:

+ Crossbowry (50)

+ Tracking (25)

>Inventory:

+ (Cross)Bow of Betsalamel

>Flaws:

+ [Old Man Tarn] You perform less admirably when it comes to physical activities than your equally skilled but younger counterparts.

>Bonuses:

+ [Sharp Eyes Old Man] You gain a bonus to hitting stuff with ranged weapons.

Rolled 42, 11 = 53 (2d100)

>>42460

Name: Wikiver Nation

Fluff: A young man with an even temper. Although he is honorable his is also quite greedy and lustful. He was learning to become a true lord when his family lands were invaded. His father pushed the family sword, which is made from a strange golden metal and forged in a strange shape, into hands and sent him away. Now he is here.

Inventory: The Dragon Fang,

+ 38 copper

+ 22 silver

+ Poorly Made Clothes

+ Turmhill Leather Armor

+ Turmhill Family Shield

Skills: Swordfighting (73)

+ Dragon Fang Combat (58)

+ Intimidation (16)

+ Luck (1)

+ Hand to Hand (32)

+ Lover (5)

+ Running (57)

+ Gutter Talk (33)

+ Charisma (7)

+ Anti-Uhlmannen Tactics (22)

+ Shield Tactics (12)

+ Gather Information (5)

+ Loyalty (8)

+ Agility (4)

>Job:

+ Turmhill Bodyguard (+ 1 Silver / turn)