/monster/ - The Last Bastion of Romance

>>396260

>Step in and defend the noble and his servants

At this point, simple bandits will be little effort for Deniel to handle. It shouldn't be too hard to intimidate the bandits, if we make it clear that Mark and Deniel are mages. If they are stupid enough to attack us afterwards, then they deserve the beating or death that follows. Deniel should try to be non-lethal, if possible. We can probably cast a lot of magic missiles at this point. I somehow doubt Mark would be so considerate.

>>396260

The Kiki may not need protecting but she deserves it all the same. The master may be an asshole but I'm sure she's working on it.

Use the levitation trick from before, that'll spook em.

>>396260

Be the good Retian child we are, Step in.

I ideally don't want them to be butchered by the Kiki so intimidating them is the way to go.

Maybe end off the conversation with an ultimatum, While floating up in the air while holding holy fire in our hands. It won't hurt them but damn if it wouldn't be intimidating to look at.

>>396260

>The first, the trio of bandits, evidently robbed somehow of the element of surprise.

save the noble while asking the bandits if getting caught was part of their master plan

>Step in and defend the Noble and his servants… Dramatically.

“Zodiladare!” You roared, becoming suddenly airborne as the spell lifted you into the air and out amongst the suddenly stunned gathering. Holding your hands out like claws, you fixed what you hoped was a suitably imperious expression upon your features. “Ne Ialprg!”

Your hands and arms burst into white fire, as the Holy Magic, finding no obvious corruption upon which to feed, burned intensely along their length.

“Tyris’s lambent bollocks!” One of the bandits cried, shying away. “It’s that pilgrim back from the dead!”

“Don’t be such an alp.” The bandit leader snapped, glowering in irritation at your intrusion. “The Reitians know magic, but they don’t hurt nobody. Buncha peacenicks. This is all sound and fury, isn’t it… Pilgrim?”

“In the name of Reitia, All Mother of Creation. By the Law of the Imperium of the Westerlands, Blessed by Ammit, who IS JUSTICE… I demand that you leave at once…”

“Oh, I’m sure…” The Bandit leader mocked, stepping closer to you. “…or what?”

“Grissom…” the other bandit declared warningly “…Remember what they said happened to Tommy the Knocker?”

“Wolves.” The leader smirked. “And I don’t see any wolves.”

“Leave.” You repeated, the holy fire fading to be replaced with crackling lightning. “Or you’ll find out how far ‘what’ can actually stretch with me.”

The bandit leader smirked. “Go on… I dare you.”

You swallowed slightly, you really didn’t want a repeat of what happened on the road to Charlestown… Why couldn’t he just run?

“Pilgrim…” Mark groaned, stepping from the bushes and cutting casually into the meat of his hand with a small knife “…You noble fucking moron.”

“Ere! We’re being ambushed!” One of the bandits cried, ripping a short, rusty sword from its scabbard. “Lay on!”

“Sub tenebrae sanguinius…” Mark snarled, snapping his hand forward, a gobbet of blood launching from his hand and burying itself in the forehead of the sword-wielding bandit, smoking and burning its way through the man’s cranium before bursting in a shower of steaming and charred gobbets from the back of his head. Twitching, the man fell bonelessly to the dirt.

The Bandit leader looked at the fallen body of his companion before turning back to you, his face a mask of inarticulate fury. He opened his mouth as if to curse you, and all at once a chill seemed to fall over the air. Howling shadows flew in from the darkness beyond the campfire, forcing their way into the bandit leader’s nose and eyes as the man choked and gagged against their intrusion. Your magic failed at the sudden horror of the sight before you, and you returned to earth with a stinging thud.

“Alright! Alright!” The last remaining bandit cried in utter terror. “Leave off! We’ll go!”

“That’s not me…” You lamented, a sinking feeling in your guts. “…Mark?”

“Not me, Pilgrim.” The Thrall replied, licking the cut on his palm absently. “You really should have gone with my idea.”

“Tyris!” The man swore, rolling between you and the gawping coachman, whose limp hands barely held onto his cudgel. Drawing a knife, he grabbed the foppish young noble around the neck and shoulder, pressing the blade to the young man’s throat. “G-get back! All of you! Back!”

“Should be running…” Mark chastised with the same regretful nonchalance, as if none of this was a surprise to him. “…Drop the shitmouse and run before… Oh. Too late.”

The bandit screamed, releasing the noble and staggering backwards, staring disbelievingly at the pulped wad of flesh and shattered bone which had once comprised his hand.

“Really!” The young fop huffed, twirling a masterwork shard-pistol in his hand before returning it to a holster beneath his half-cloak. “The nerve!”

“Master is so brave!” the Kikimora gushed adoringly, clapping her hands in front of her chest and smiling at the noble.

“Stop gushing, woman, and finish it off, will you?” The Noble sighed impatiently before turning to you. “And you, are you going to leave a job half done?”

“What in the name of…” You began, already off-balance from the shadows, Mark’s calm resignation, and now this aggrieved flippancy seemingly from out of nowhere from this noble.

“Deniel…” Mark interjected. “…Turn around, before it grabs you by those pretty golden locks.”

>>396397

You spun on your heel, to come face to face with the Bandit leader, Grissom, his face twisted in a sardonic smile, foul brown ichor leaking from his eyes and nose, and a palatable miasma of corruption permeating the very air around him.

“Found you again.” Grissom near-giggled in a voice not his own.

“Maou’s Fragrant Cunt, Pilgrim! I’m an ADEPT! Do you think I walked all this way because I enjoyed the process?” Mark spat derisively. “I knew she’d be looking for one or both of us… And you just decided to turn up the stagelights and sing your fucking heart out, didn’t you?”

“Could have mentioned!” You snapped back, not taking your eyes off the insanely grinning bandit.

“I felt it was implied!”

You spared the vampire Thrall a glance. “You and me are going to have to work on our communication.”

“After present matters.”

Your brow furrowed, the spirit possessing Grissom seemed content to grin and twitch, but do little else as it stared unblinkingly at you. “What’s she doing?” You called aside to Mark as you began to circle the posessed human.

“Know how to ride a Gremlin’s construct?”

“Of course not!”

“Controlling a human from within a mind not completely subsumed is similarly complicated. I’d say she’s working out how to make the hands…”

“N’GLATH!” Garret snarled, a bolt of crimson energy howling as it leaped from his outstretched hand towards you.

“Ooge De Baeouib!” You intoned desperately, feeling yourself forced backwards as the bolt struck the golden shield of holy magic you had hastily erected.

“Grissom!” You yelled. “Man, if you’re in there still, you have to fight!”

“Even after all these years…” Grissom’s mouth moved spasmodically as the spirit within manipulated him like a puppet “…You’re still pathetic and weak.”

Despair and fury warred within your breast as the posessed bandit raised his hands again. “gn'th'bthnk l' fm'latgh…”

“Mark!” You prompted desperately.

“Oh no.” Mark quickly replied. “She controls the blood, and hasn’t yet got my measure. I’m not sacrificing that advantage for your feelings. You’re on your own for this one, Pilgrim.”

“I don’t want to kill him!”

“You don’t have a choice!”

“Conusata De Coazior!” You cried out, your vision blurred with tears as lightning forked from your hands, blasting a smoking hole in the Bandit’s chest. A furious screeching filled the air as the shadows fled the dead body, flying into the air and out of sight.

“Quickly!” You prompted, beckoning towards the carriage. “We need to get out of here before..;”

“Easy, Deniel…” Mark assured you. “…that would have hurt like an utter bastard. You’ve got a good day before she stops screaming and can look for us again.”

>>396398

“Gentlemen…” the young noble began. “…It appears we are in your debt, and I must say I am most impressed by the pussiant abilities you have displayed this evening. Truly you are a credit to your Circle.”

“I like that much better than ‘Move, Peasant.” Mark almost purred, smiling mirthlessly at the young noble.

“F-forgive me…” The noble blanched, backing away slightly. “…I meant no offense…”

“Mark! Leave it be.” You demanded, pinching the brow of your nose and taking a deep breath. “My Lord, it has been a long, tiring day. I am Deniel, Pilgrim of The Temple of Reitia, and this is…”

“Marcus Adolphus Hartman the Third, Maristhrall, Consigliere to the Countess of Albany.” Mark interjected. “And I’d advise My Lord not to forget it.”

“Oh…” The noble remarked, clearly engaged in the intricate mathematics of courtly intrigue, establishing exactly where a Countesses’s Consigliere measured against his own rank. For a moment, you stood transfixed, watching the wordless power play weave its way through the young Noble’s mind.

“We, Marquis Reginald Desmond Thomas of House Iona, thank Ser Marcus and the Blessed Pilgrim for their assistance.” The young noble finally intoned, bowing floridly from the waist. “Kalina, see to it that they are suitably provisioned. We will retire.”

“But your supper, Master!” The Kikimora protested, wiping blood from a kitchen knife as she looked after the young noble adoringly.

“We are not hungry.” Reginald declared, heading towards the carriage. “Fetch us milk and brandy.”

“But Master…”

“Milk and brandy, woman!” the young noble demanded, throwing open the carriage and standing atop its step. “Are you hard of hearing?”

“No Master.” The Kikimora replied demurely, a flush spreading on her cheeks.

“Good. I will trust Niles to see you suitably billeted for the evening.” Reginald sniffed, closing the carriage behind himself.

“Corpses corpses all day long…” The coachman grumbled, picking up the nearby body of the handless bandit with a grunt, a wet red gash running across his throat. “…Never stops.”

>Talk to Niles, the Coachman

>Talk to Mark, the Thrall

>Talk to Kalina, the Kiki

>Talk to Reginald, the Fop

>Fuck the Nobility, meditate on the Word of Reitia

>Something else?

>>396399

>Talk to Mark, the Thrall

Explain to Mark that you have virtually no knowledge of blood magic, and would love it if he could give you a brief lesson. We're not looking to become students of it, but we should at least learn enough to the point that we could understand these "implied" things.

Screw Reginald, the noble cunt. But we could see if Niles wouldn't mind giving us a ride, if they are heading in the direction we want to go.

>>396399 (checked)

We should speak with the Kiki, see if she needs any help savagely raping convincing her master to let her service him to the very best of her abilities.

Also >>396409 is right we should talk to Mark about him

>implying implications

>>396399

If not talk to him, help the coachman with the bodies since that's kind of our fault, and have that conversation with Mark.

>>396440

>>396409

>>396412

These

We should probably give them their last rites as well. Not exactly our territory but as the holiest person here I think it kinda falls to us.

OP die?

Rip

>>397632

>OP die?

He's probably just been busy or something.

>>397654

Yeah, flat out like a lizard drinking. I don't know why companies employ 457 workers. I end up doing not only my job but theirs too.

Update now.

>Help Niles with the bodies

>Talk to Kalina, see if you can help consumate her obvious desire for master’s meatcleaver.

>Talk to Mark, you need to know how this blood magic shit works, even in a general sense

“Can I assist you, Goodman?” You offered, gesturing towards the feet of the corpse the man awkwardly dragged.

“Thank ye kindly, young master.” Niles agreed, blowing air in relief as you grasped the bandit’s body by the ankles.

“Just Deniel, please.” You smiled. “I’m nobody’s master.”

“As ye will, Deniel.” Niles acknowledged with a curt nod. “Heave ‘im to in that gully there.”

You frowned slightly at that as you unceremoniously dumped the body in the shallow depression which lined the road. “We’re not digging a grave?”

“Me old back can’t be set to such tasks any longer.” Niles sighed, putting a hand to the small of his back and stretching slightly as if to drive home his point. “We’ll make do. Not to fret, Deniel, I’ll not risk Ammit’s displeasure by defilin’ the dead. This isn’t our first scrap, after all.”

“This… Happens regularly?”

“The open road’s always a risk, and the Waylanders can’t be everywhere.” Niles shrugged absently. “Usually they’re more willing to talk. I don’t remember the last time that a group-o highwaymen were that…”

“Violent?” You offered.

“Desperate.” Niles corrected. “There’s change a-comin’. This ‘Senate’ in Fort Caladon… Rumors o’strange folks in the deep forests… The Dead comin’ out in the daylight even… t’aint right and normal.”

“Is anything in our world right and normal?” You grinned, grabbing the next bandit by the shoulders, trying to avoid the blood and brain matter still drooling from his head.

“Aye. Sittin’ afore the fire with yer woman in yer lap, a glass o’fine whisky in yer hand and a pipe stuffed full of good leaf.” The coachman asserted, grunting as you heaved the body atop its fellow.

“That’s a normal I can appreciate.” You agreed sincerely. “Your wife is back at home then?”

“Never married.” Niles replied shortly. “Oh sure, I dallied in me youth like all do, but none ever really lit the spark.”

“I’m sorry.” You offered sincerely, a surge of sympathy swelling through you.

“Faugh.” Niles snorted, nonchalantly waving away your words. “If’n they took it on the chin during the time of the Pax, I can bear it nowadays. His Lordship ain’t a hard one to serve.”

“Strikes me as a touch… petulant.” you remarked somewhat sourly as you collected the last body, that of Grissom, the leader, the still-smoking hole in his chest staring at you in wordless accusation.

>>397672

“He’s a fifteen year old boy thrust into nobility.” Niles remarked. “Oh sure he can be trying, but if I’m bein’ honest, half the time I pity him. Me? I can tie up the horses, brush ‘em down and me duty is ended. Him? Poor boy’d worry himself sick for duty if not for Kalina.”

“She loves him.” You declared without hesitation.

“She’s Kikimora.” Niles shrugged. “She’d fawn over a rock if the Council of Matriarchs declared it her master.”

You frowned. “I think you’re being unkind.”

“Maybe…” Niles admitted, grunting as you heaved the final body into the gully. “…But it makes it easier.”

“Makes what easier?”

“To anticipate her pain when he finally breaks her heart.” Niles stated simply, pouring a vial of sharp-smelling liquid over the bodies.

“There’s no hope for them then?”

Niles shrugged. “He’s noble. The Pax may be long gone but tradition remains. If he marries, it won’t be for love.”

Your heart ached for the Kikimora as Niles casually discarded the empty vial. “We should say something.” You declared finally.

“I’ll not stop ye, pilgrim.” The coachman replied, somewhat wearily.

“Dread Ammit…” You began, folding your arms into the sign of the Scales of Ma’at. “…Judge them with fairness, for they knew not what they did. Holy Tyris, Lord of Order, forgive us our sins. Mother Reitia, look upon us all with Mercy…”

“The Gods be Good.” Niles replied absently, brushing his left breast briefly with his hand.

“Ialprg.” You intoned, a bolt of fire flying from your hand to engulf the bodies. The liquid they were soaked in caught quickly, the flame building with surprising quickness to encompass the still corpses in the gully.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured sincerely, the bodies beginning to shrivel and blacken as the alchemically hastened fire ate at them. With a final sigh, you turned and head back towards the camp.

“His Lordship’ll want you rewarded.” Niles stated as he kept pace with you. “Have ye given much thought to what we can do for ye?”

“We head for Fort Caladon. A ride would be appreciated.”

“If’n ye don’t mind ridin’ on the tailgate, I’m sure His Lordship won’t object too strenuously.” Niles chuckled.

“Niles?” The Kikimora’s voice ventured. “Did you pack any spare clothing? The Master is unwell.”

“Oh Tyris…” Niles groaned as you both beheld the Kikimora valiantly attempting to keep her equilibrium as she stood without the door of the carriage, her dress soaked in fresh vomit.

>>397673

“I truly do appreciate the assistance, Pilgrim.” Kalina, the Kikimora insisted, trying to cover her dignity as best she could as she stood before the fire in her smallclothes.

“It won’t be the first set of clothes I’ve washed…” You grinned as you scrubbed and wrung the dress in the bucket of steaming water. “…You should thank Mark for his ability in calling forth the water.”

“I’m good.” The thrall chuckled, staring at the Kikimora in open amusement.

“D-do not look upon me with such lewd eyes, sir.” Kalina insisted, blushing furiously.

Mark’s pale grin broadened. “You’re safe enough. My mistress would find you… most fascinating, however. Should you ever get tired of wiping the chin of that brat…”

“Cyka Blyat…” Kalina hissed, her scaled legs kicking up puffs of dust as she crossed the distance surprisingly quickly to the thrall, seizing him about the throat with her delicate looking hand. “…Don’t you DARE!”

“Mark, can you PLEASE go five minutes without insulting our hosts?” You groaned, taking the Kikimora by the arm and gently extricating her feather-cuffed hand from about the Thrall’s neck, Mark still grinning fit to shame a cheshire as you did so. “Kalina, would you not be more comfortable back in the carriage?”

“B-but I am not suitably attired!” The Kikimora gasped, staring at you in shock. “The Master would not be pleased!”

You frowned in puzzlement. “Why?”

“H-he does not wish to look at me in a state of undress.” Kalina stammered, wringing her hands in front of her, her long, pendulous ears twitching amidst the featherlike locks of her hair.

“You’re joking.” You blurted incredulously. “I mean, please don’t take this the wrong way, I mean nothing by it, but you are a very fetching young woman!”

“You are too generous, sir.” Kalina blushed.

“Oh HE’s being generous when he comments on those pert…” Mark began hotly.

“Maybe because I spare the lurid details, Thrall!” You interjected witheringly. “And once again, can you not?”

Mark laughed as if privy to some hidden joke, slapping his knee and taking another slug from his blood-filled flask, but said nothing further.

“Still Kalina…” You ventured, trying to restore some sense of decorum to the camp. “…I truly don’t understand. He’s told you he disapproves?”

“Well… Not directly…” the Kikimora admitted. “…But he splutters and averts his gaze, and chastizes me most… vociferously…”

You pretended not to notice the thrill of pleasure which ran up the Mamono’s spine as she recounted her experience. Ah… One of those then.

“At any stage has he told you to put some clothes on?” You smiled slightly.

“Well… no… but he calls me the most… VULGAR names…” Kalina admitted, her modest bust heaving with the memory.

“Have you thought perhaps he might be simply overwhelmed?”

‘The Master? Overwhelmed? But he is so forceful! So… so… manly…” Kalina trailed, a thin trickle of drool shining at the corner of her mouth, her breathing quickening and her thighs rubbing unconsciously together.

“He is but Human…” You grinned conspiratorially “…and you’ll never have a better opportunity than now to find out. After all… your only set of clothes is quite unwearable, wouldn’t you agree?”

“This is true…” Kalina mused thoughtfully as you held her dripping dress aloft before the campfire, propping it up against a wooden cruciform to dry.

>>397674

“A thought, if you’d permit me…” You continued, thoroughly overtaken with the plot. “…Couch it as if you merely sought to comfort him. He has had a trying evening tonight, has he not?”

“He… He has, hasn’t he?” Kalina near-exulted, her golden eyes bright. “And as his servant, it is my DUTY to salve his stress!”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” You laughed openly.

Kalina smiled eagerly, turning on horned heel to re-enter the carriage. “Master~” you heard her cozen as she closed the door firmly behind her.

“Kalina? Why are you so lewdly attired? I should have known, you rutting wench…” Reginald’s voice cracked and warbled from within the carriage.

“Oh Master… You have had such a time tonight… Let your servant comfort you, my brave, brave Master…” The Kikimora cozened in a voice as sweet as honey.

“Oh you are a vulgar slut, aren’t you? S-so full of vice… and… and… Ah… Ahhhaa…”

“Simply put…” You drawled, putting your hands behind your head and grinning smugly as the noises from within the carriage spoke louder than words that the noble was being thoroughly… seen to. “…Good at what I do.”

“Shooting fish in a barrel much?” Mark snickered.

“I’ll take an easy win where it’s offered.” You rejoined. “Thanks be to the All-Mother of Creation.”

Niles emerged from the shadows on the far side of the carriage, his mouth downturned in distaste as he unceremoniously dumped a pair of thick bedrolls beside the campfire. “Ye’ve not done either of them a favour this night, Pilgrim.”

“I choose to hope that Love will prevail.” You retorted stubbornly.

“Then be it on yer head.” the coachman grumbled. “Stew’s in the crock, eat yer fill. We’ll be leavin’ at the first hour after sunup. If ye sleep in, I’ll leave ye behind.”

>>397675

“Alright, it’s going to keep me up all night if I don’t ask.” You blurted into the darkness, the dim red of the dying fire casting a faint crimson on the ground around you, warring with the silver blue of moonlight above.

“Mmmm?” Mark murmured.

“Why were you being such an asshole tonight?”

“Made ‘em angry.” The Thrall replied simply.

“Clearly, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“It does if you understand Blood Magic.” Mark continued, and you heard him rustle within the bedroll as he rolled to face you. “Emotion sings to the Vampire… on the off chance the Witch recovers quicker than I anticipate, all she’s going to sense around here is angry Kikimora… well… she WOULD have, now she’s going to sense Kikimora with a dick in her. Nice work there.”

“M-Master~” The Kikimora moaned from within the carriage.

“Again?” Mark groaned.

“He’s got the potence of youth.” You replied simply.

“Zipangan Banquet… Small portions, lots of courses.” The Thrall snickered.

“So what does it mean? This business with the Vampire Blood?”

“Who, the witch?”

“Mmm… I gather it’s something of a requirement for you.”

“If I want to keep any kind of equilibrium, yeah.” Mark agreed. “But her? She’s taken so much… she’s bound by it now. Has to abide by its limitations.”

“Specifically though, what does that mean?”

“Argh… pilgrim…” Mark grunted, and you spied the dark shadow of his body as he sat up, his red-rimmed eyes almost glowing. “You’re putting me in a difficult position. On one hand it makes sense you knowing, stop you from making another boneheaded move like earlier tonight… On the other I’m basically showing you the weak points in my Mistress’s arsenal.”

“What you can then.”

“It depends if she’s turned or not…” Mark begain. “…If she’s Vampire, then she’s as much at risk from herself as anything else. The Hunger… It’s like another mind inside of them, tempt it too much and it’ll take over… make them… reckless. On the other hand though, everything they do is based around two basic drives, Self-Preservation and staving off boredom.”

“Sounds a horrible way to live.” You admitted, furrowing your brow in the dark.

“There’s Love too… and the minor point of eternal youth.” Mark rejoined.

“Fair, I guess.” You acceded. “And if she hasn’t?”

“Then this is going to be a massacre.”

“What?!” You blurted, jolting upright.

“You misunderstand.” Mark assured you “If she’s still Human, then my Mistress’s blood is going to be fighting her every second. She’s going to have to use every ounce of her will not to go down to wherever she’s imprisoned my mistress and bear that white throat of hers to her teeth.”

“Why would she make such a rash decision?” You murmured in confusion, laying your head back down on the bedroll.

“You tell me, Pilgrim.” Mark sighed, settling down as well. “She’s your mother.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” You grumbled sourly.

“No charge.”

>>397676

You woke at some time during the night to the soft sound of crying from within the carriage.

“Master? Whatever is the matter?”

“Kalina… I have no idea what I’m doing!” Reginald’s muffled voice sobbed. “Since Mother and Father… It’s too much! I don’t want it… I never wanted it.”

“You are so strong, my Master…” Kalina soothed adoringly “…And I will always be with you. Trust in me, my Master, I’m for you… I’ve… I’ve always been for you.”

“But the court… They’ll never approve. They’ll make me send you away!”

“Let them TRY.” The Kikimora near-snarled. “You are my Master, and I will do my duty to you for as long as I draw breath.”

“You won’t leave me then?”

“Never, Master… I…”

“What?”

“I… I L-love you…”

“Tyris be Merciful… You’re so forward, you lewd woman… but I Love you too!”

You smiled wordlessly, murmuring thanks to Reitia beneath your breath. Surely Love would find a way, and surely the Blessings of the Holy Mother would be upon them both.

“Do you have any idea…” Cirice’s voice murmured within the vaults of your mind “…How difficult it is to shoot an arrow through the window of a carriage?”

A short blurt of laughter escaped your lips, and you rolled onto your back, staring up into the starlight, a rose-coloured streak arching across the heavens.

“I Love You…” You whispered to the sea of stars, before closing your eyes again.

“There she is…” Niles declared. “…Fort Caladon.”

“Civilization at last!” Reginald groaned from within the Carriage, drawing the curtain and gazing from the window as the carriage trundled through the vast gates of the Imperial City.

“Could we prevail on My Lord for an Introduction to the Court?” Mark mused snidely from where he sat beside you on the footman’s bench at the rear of the carriage.

“And have my reputation tarnished forever? You are a churl, sir…”

“Thank you for the ride, My Lord.” You interjected quickly, not wanting to start another barrage of veiled and not so veiled insults between the Thrall and the young Noble. “I’m sure we can find our way from here.”

“Hold a moment, Good Pilgrim…” Reginald replied, opening the rear window and looking down at you. “…I will not risk my standing by being associated with the Consigliere, but you… You I could see fit to introducing.”

“Oh! I am wounded!” Mark lamented in faux injury, throwing a pale arm across his forehead dramatically before making a rude gesture at the window. “C’mon Deniel, we don’t need this kid…”

>Go with Mark

>Tell Mark to wait for you, go with Reginald to the court.

>Fuck ‘em both, you’re holy enough to find church people.

>Try and convince Reginald to let you all go together, you did get the little snot laid after all.

>Something Else?

>>397678

>Try and convince Reginald to let you all go together, you did get the little snot laid after all.

Remind Mark of why we are there, and that we could use any leverage we can get. Get him to promise to act like a good little boy, and give this a try. If it doesn't work out, then so be it. we'll manage to figure something out.

>>397671

My condolences.

>>397678

>Try and convince Reginald to let you all go together, you did get the little snot laid after all.

>>397711

>Get him to promise to act like a good little boy

Pretty much this. Have him give his word on his Mistresses' honor or something like that. Also, he can't really act like a asshat at court without it reflecting poorly on her.

>>397711

This is definitely the way to go.

>>397800

I agree with trying to convince Mark that he's not just representing himself, but his Mistress, and he shouldn't make her look bad in front of the Caladonian court, especially when she's not here to represent herself.

>>397800

this. also Mark should bedazzle them with the light hearted parts of his personality. I'm sure he can shine brilliantly when it comes to dealing with politics.

>Try and convince Reginald to let you all go together.

>Convince Mark to be on his best behaviour, make him swear it on his mistress if necessary

“My Lord…” You began delicately. “…The task we embark upon is one where time is of the essence. I know nothing of courtly intrigue, and would not presume upon you to act as my effective translator in such an environment. If I could promise that the Consigliere will be on his best behaviour…”

“Oh you’ll promise that, will you?” Mark drawled in amusement.

“Yes.” You declared, curling up the meaty, four-fingered fist of your good arm and holding it in front of the Thrall’s eyes. “Or I’ll push your face in.”

Mark looked up at your eyes, studying you for a short while. “That saint-in-training mannerism of yours really does make it easy to forget that you’re built like a blacksmith. Have you ever considered Pugilism as a backup career? You could make a fortune.”

“Mark…” You growled warningly.

“Alright alright…” The thrall conceded, his thin mouth curled in amusement as if once again privy to some private joke. “…By my Mistress’s Garter, I promise that should our August Host agree to introduce us to the court, I shall be the very soul of gentility.”

“Why would you swear on her underwear?” You murmured in puzzlement.

“It’s a thing.” Mark whispered, tapping a pale finger against his mouth to hush you, jerking his head towards the window of the carriage where the young noble was making strangled noises of frustration.

“Against such a fervent vow, what can I do but accept?’ Reginald spat finally, Kalina the Kikimora making soft soothing noises as the young noble quieted to obvious sulking.

“I really don’t understand this nobility business.” You sighed, shaking your head helplessly.

“Good that you recognise that.” Mark smirked, patting you on the shoulder.

>>399117

“The Marquis Reginald Desmond Thomas of House Iona…” a sunken-cheeked master of ceremonies intoned, his wand of office pressed absently against his hip. Without hesitation, Reginald stepped from the oddly arranged group of nobles and petitioners which… swarmed was the only word you had for it… before the empty thrones atop the dais. Below them, three simpler yet still ornate chairs sat, two men and a woman atop them, richly adorned in silk and ermine robes.

“Senators…” the Marquis began, sketching a florid bow deep enough that his fingernails nearly brushed the stone floor. “…August Personages, Nobles, Landholders, Gentles all. It is my honour and privilege to stand before you, yea, insomuch as…”

“Is he speaking Magisterian?” You whispered aside to Mark, who bit his lip to keep from snickering. Kalina shifted her foot slightly, pinching one of your toes with her horned heel.

“Pilgrim…” The Kikimora chided, ignoring your pained wince. “…The master spent weeks memorizing that speech.”

Mark looked like he was in physical pain trying to hold in his laughter. With an act of herculean will, he forced himself back to equilibrium, his eyes wet with mirth. Credit to him, he was keeping his word.

“…And as such, I present myself before this court.” Reginald concluded, puffing out his chest proudly… to be met with disinterested silence from the court, broken only by the Kikimora’s enthusiastic, overabundant applause.

“Hmm? Oh. Yes… Be most welcome, Marquis.” One of the male senators remarked with indulgent absence, waving acknowledgement of the young noble. “Was there anything else?”

The young noble looked dejected, glancing back towards you as if reconsidering his offer. Finally, it seemed honour won out. “Yes Senators. Allow me to present before you, Deniel the Holdsward, Pilgrim of the Reitian Temple.”

“Keep it simple.” Mark muttered in your ear, pushing you forward.

“My Lords and Ladies, Senators, Excellencies.” You began, praying your voice didn’t crack, bowing and placing a hand over your breast. “I offer greetings from Hive Sea of Grasses, First amongst the Temples of the Holy Mother.”

“That’s adorable…” Someone snickered behind you.

“Silence.” The female senator declared imperiously, standing and striding towards you. You gulped audibly. She was shorter than you, yet her imperious bearing made her seem twenty feet tall. Smiling slightly at you, she dropped to a knee, taking your hand in hers. “Will you bless me, Pilgrim?”

“I am unworthy…” You stammered, your hand beginning to shake.

“I insist.” The senator retorted. She was no longer young, the ravages and lines of age beginning to show their wear on her face, yet her eyes hinted of warmth and caring.

“May Reitia spread her wings above thee, and pour forth blessings most abundantly upon thee. May Love dwell forever in thy breast, and may it’s fruit be plentiful and sweet to thy tongue.” You intoned, placing your hand briefly upon her head. Suddenly, like the rushing of water, revelation flowed through your mind and words forced their way out of your throat.

“She who is Sahnate will quicken thy womb and thou wilt bear a child…” You heard yourself utter “…and he will hold the Scales of JUSTICE and the Rod of Order in his hand. She who is Pora will call him to great destiny, and full with pride will he make thee. This is the Word of Reitia.”

<You have learned the light magic: Prophecy - Foretell the future of another in allegory and symbolism.

<Your ability to sense the auras of others has weakened, subsumed by this new gift

<Your Magical Potency has increased

“I dreamed of Her…” The Senator whispered, her eyes wet with tears. “…Humble yourself before My Pilgrim, she said, and I will bless you.” Clearing her throat, she stood, not acknowledging the muttering and wordless sounds of awe rippling throughout the assembled nobles and dignitaries. “Marquis Reginald, you have sanctified this court by bringing this Holy Pilgrim before us. The Imperial Senate is pleased with the service you have rendered to us.”

“I-I live but to serve, Excellent Senator.” Reginald stammered. “And if I may, there is one other I have made promise to present.”

“Please do.” The Senator gestured, resuming her seat.

“It is with… Pleasure…” Reginald began, his mouth twisting with the word as if it soured upon his tongue “…That I present the Consigliere of Countess Maris of Albany, Marcus Adolphus Hartman the Third.”

“Simple…” Mark muttered wryly to you before striding forward nonchalantly, sketching a casual bow before the seated senators.

>>399118

“And now he’s just ruined it.” One of the other Senators remarked snidely.

“Got your tongue back, Senator Jarrick?” Mark drawled evenly, pale lips drawing back from his white teeth. “My mistress feared you would be lost to your ravings for years to come.”

“Never again will I dismiss the warnings of a Vampire…” The senator chuckled ruefully “…how IS your mistress anyway? Her soirees are always the highlight of the Autumn Equinox.”

“Told you we didn’t need the kid.” Mark murmured aside to you, putting a brief, pale hand on your arm. “Hopefully you start listening to me before it actually starts to matter.”

You opened your mouth to retort, closing it as the truth of the Thrall’s words sank home. It was true, you’d fought him at every turn, and at every turn, he’d been right… from a certain point of view.

“And to your question, Esteemed Senator, she is… indisposed. A matter that the Good Pilgrim and I seek to rectify with all due haste.”

“Name what assistance this court can offer, Consigliere.” Senator Jarrick declared expansively. “Countess Maris has always been a wise and valued councillor of the Imperial Senate.”

“The matter is… delicate, and I fear she is not to Manse, having sequestered herself to more… Humble Sanctuary…” Mark replied carefully. “…Yet Pilgrim Deniel believes that a boon owed to him by the Holy Orders may be instrumental in its rectification.”

“Preceptors?” The senator beckoned, and the sound of mailed feet behind you made you swallow nervously. Mark had vastly overstated the favour owed to you by Ser Jamie… How would these Knights look upon your presumption?

“I have heard tell of this Pilgrim of Reitia…” A Tyrisian Paladin remarked, his mailed hand resting absently upon the golden hilt of his broadsword as he stepped before you, his deep-set green eyes studying, his armor silver and fluted gold, his tabard and surcoat an almost incandescent white “…Whipped in Charlestown for Dark Magics, to my knowledge. Though my Brother in Faith’s reports speak of him favourably despite this trespass against Order, we owe him no such boon.”

“Trespass…” A second figure snickered, lank red hair shrouding a face whose violet eyes glowed with power, his leaden armor fluted with strange crimson metals. “…wolves sing him a hero amongst the mountain tribes.”

“Wolves.” The Paladin echoed derisively “Your standards for heroism are lacking, Incubus.”

The red-haired knight curled his lip at the Paladin, yet returned his attention to you. Magic swelled within you in response to the sheer POWER of that being’s gaze. The Paladin had named him ‘Incubus’, and you could feel the swelling of uncontrolled, chaotic magic flowing through the man’s form.

“That being said…” The Incubus continued, his mouth curling slightly “…No matter how many Wolven maids may sigh themselves to sleep over him, the Knights of Hell owe him no favour.”

“Ser Victor?” The Senator prompted of an immobile, Ebon figure, face enclosed by a raven-beaked helm.

“Boon…” The Corvidian echoed simply. “…The Thrall presumes greatly…”

“Such is my wont, Sir Knight…” Mark quipped charmingly, his eyes flicking briefly to you “…If you’ve fucked me here, Deniel…” He hissed through his rigid smile.

“But…” The Corvidian continued, raising a hand from the evil-looking warhammer at his belt and holding a talon-fingered gauntlet aloft. “…Our little brother did Kindness to one of ours. Kindness which demands recompense. I will hear him.”

“I thank you for your indulgence, Sir Knight…” Mark sighed in relief, bowing slightly.

“Seek me out, little brother.” Victor echoed. “I retire.”

“The matters of the day have not…” the other male senator objected.

“I Retire.” The Corvidian repeated, an oppressive aura settling over the court. None moved to stop him as he strode from the throneroom, the crowd parting like water before him.

“Dour bastard.” The incubus grumbled.

“You are wearied from the road, Holy Pilgrim.” The female senator added, breaking the silence that followed the Corvidian’s departure. “Might we offer you some small respite?”

>Oh fuck yes. Palace Pampering. Get it while it’s on offer.

>Yeah nah go see Victor now. No rest for the Wicked.

>See if you can chat to the Paladin. You’re going to infiltrate a Chancel, after all, might pay to get the Tyrisians onside first.

>We’re too holy for this shit. Get Humble as fuck, go beg and preach on the street.

>Refuse the offer of respite, but wait for the day’s business to conclude, there might be something worth hearing you can act on once this is all over.

>>399119

Fuck, forgot one

>Hero amongst the wolves eh? Talk to the Incubus… Sounds like a free army in the making.

>>399119

>>399123

I feel like we should go see Victor now just because he doesn't seem like a guy we should keep waiting.

>>399119

>Yeah nah go see Victor now. No rest for the Wicked.

I agree with >>399137. And we're in a hurry, so we should get to dealing with Victor sooner rather than later. We certainly don't need to take time to rest at this point. I'm a little interested in chatting with the hell knight about the wolves, but that's not the most important thing.

>>399148

Fuck, it wouldn’t let me delete the post. Sorry guys

>>399149

It appeared to delete just fine. You just need to refresh your cache to see it disappear. But what did you vote for?

>>399119

see Victor now, make a mental note of the awoos. if we have enough time investigate the wolves. if not, stick with the Victor plan because he's not here to fuck spiders unless he's a spiderfucker

>>399153

Voted for seeing victor immediately.kept giving me an error message for some reason

>>399119

>Yeah nah go see Victor now. No rest for the Wicked.

He said to go see him, best do it without dicking around… too much. I'm not wanting to recruit a wolven war party, but let's ask the incubus about what he meant by his words, since otherwise we're probably going to have it catch us off guard at some point.

>Go see Victor.

“By your leave, Esteemed Senators, my Lords and Ladies…” You offered, sketching another bow.

“By all means, Pilgrim.” the female senator sighed, waving her dismissal. “The Children of the Void are not known for their patience.”

“I’ll find you.” Mark hapaered, grabbing your arm as you passed him. “Don’t do anything stupid, and by Maou’s ample buttocks, don’t promise anything I’ll have to deliver on.”

“Do you want your Mistress rescued or not?” You retorted simply.

“Last time I ever ask a favour of a Reitian…” Mark chuckled softly, releasing your arm with a sardonic smile.

You made your way through the crowd, men and women, Human and Mamono looking at you curiously as you followed the wake of the Corvidian’s passage. It should have been a simple matter, you assumed, to follow the passage of one such as the Black Knight, yet all too soon you found yourself lost amongst the labyrinthine halls of Fort Caladon.

“Oof!” You exhaled explosively as your lower body impacted with something solid.

“Watch where yer goin!” A harsh, female voice exclaimed, a meaty hand shoving at your midsection.

“Your pardon madam… I…” You began, your eyes panning down as your voice trailed off in puzzlement at the sight before you.

She was a diminutive thing as far as height went, four and a half feet if she was an inch. Yet there was an implacable solidity to her bearing, her shoulders and breast wide and expansive, her arms and legs powerfully muscular. Her hair was shorn at the nape and temple, a long, coarse braid hanging down her back, her body clad in rune-etched plate armor.

“What’s the matter, lank?” The short woman demanded. “Never seen a dwarf before?”

“I have not. I will admit.” You stated honestly. “My apologies.”

“Yer cute, for a tall one…” The dwarf stated appraisingly. “…I might be willin’ to overlook bein’ stepped on if…”

“Madam, I am a Pilgrim of Reitia, with all that position implies.” You interjected quickly. Better to head that particular conversation off before it began.

“Oh!” The dwarf exclaimed. “You’re that one. Ser Victor’s expecting you. C’mon.”

“You uh… Know the Corvidian?” You blurted as the dwarf seized your wrist in her hand, dragging you along the hallway.

“I’m his squire.” The dwarf responded almost sunnily, smiling over her shoulder at you. “Name’s Sasha.”

“Deniel.” You replied bemusedly. “What would have happened if I wasn’t who you were looking for?”

“I’d probably be dragging you to an entirely different room.” Sasha quipped without a hint of shame, winking at you saucily.

“Madam!” You exclaimed, flushing a deep crimson at the implication.

“You’re adorable!” Sasha laughed, yanking you around a corner and unceremoniously pulling open a heavy wooden door. “In there.”

You straightened your clothing self-consciously as you entered the room, the sound of the door closing behind you unmistakable. Before you knelt a figure in a simple black robe, and before the figure, an orb of utter nothingness, reality shimmering in its periphery as if the world itself feared being sucked into its stygian depths.

“It shall be as you command, O my God.” the figure stated humbly. “Yet I fail to see…”

You cleared your throat, and the figure’s head raised slightly.

“Come in, little brother. We mustn’t lurk in doorways.” He chuckled. “One might question our upbringing.”

“I was raised in the Abbey of Blessed Innocence, Sir Knight.” You replied somewhat chidingly. “I would not presume to question the Mothers so.”

“Raised… Not born…” The Corvidian remarked, rising to his feet. He was powerfully built, even moreso than Jamie, and taller than you by a good three inches. His bare chest was unmarked, and part of you sighed in relief that you would not again be confronted with a history of Dark Magic.

“Come.” Victor beckoned, gesturing towards the orb of nothingness. “What do you see?”

“Nothing.” You admitted, your pulse quickening as the knight drew you closer to it.

“Just so…” Victor agreed, squeezing your shoulder. “…The stillness and darkness of the void which exists between worlds. The Nothing… The Hunger which my Master holds yet at bay.”

>>399586

“I rest secure in the embrace of the All-Mother of Creation.” You intoned, squeezing your eyes closed. “In all trials, never do I walk alone.”

“Just so, little brother!” Victor chuckled softly, waving his hand at the orb which flickered out of existence. “We too, are never alone… Corvus speaks to us, even as His Holy Daughter speaks to you… We are the same, after a fashion.”

“Forgive me, Sir…” You stammered, every cell in your body screaming at you to run, flee, get as far away from this servant of destruction as you could. “…I don’t understand.”

“Jamie told you of the garden, yes?” Victor continued, pulling up a chair and gesturing for you to be seated. “And of the duty of the Black Knights of Corvus in holding fast the weeds which would encroach upon it?”

“He did.” You admitted, sitting on the offered chair. “You hunt Dark Mages…”

“A small part of our charge.” Victor mused. “You have met young Sasha, I take it?”

“Your Squire?”

“It pleases her to think herself so.” Victor admitted. “What do you know of the Dwarves?”

“Very little, I confess. They live in the deep places of the earth, and worship no Gods, revering instead the spirits of their ancestors.”

“There are things in the deeps… in the darkness beyond the ken of Heaven and Hell… Old things… Dark things…” Victor explained, taking another seat opposite you. “Lord Corvus is posessed of a singular love for His Daughter, and for the beauty of Her Creation. Dark Mages threaten it, aye, but greater threat comes from things forgotten in the deep places.”

“Dagon.” You blurted, suddenly understanding.

“Him and his ilk.” Victor nodded. “Evil beyond mortal understanding sleeps in the hidden places. The depths of the sea, the cthonian reaches of the earth, the vastness of the spaces between the stars.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You demanded.

Victor leaned forward, his chestnut hair hanging before steel-grey eyes. “I can smell its touch on you… You’ve used it once, yes?”

“I didn’t know” You whimpered, suddenly feeling very small.

“No. You did not… For I do not sense the temptation upon your soul… the thought that you could control it… master it… do you think perhaps one day, you could?”

“I want to spread love, and the furtherance of love, as the Holy Mother has instructed.” You replied instinctively. “I don’t want it. Any of it.”

“I know.” Victor nodded, squeezing your shoulder again, yet comfortingly. “But could you call upon it, given no other choice? To guard love, to protect those cherished by the Rafnsdottir?”

“I’m only a pilgrim…” You sobbed helplessly “…I can’t…”

“Forgive me.” Victor stated passionlessly. “You have not yet faced that tribulation, and I am unworthy of forcing it upon you. Know though, little brother, that one day you shall be confronted with it, in the day that you face your destiny… in the day you speak the name, Father…”

‘How dare you!?” You snarled, a crackling of mystical energy springing forth about your arms. “Ne Pireda Cirice…”

“Ne Pireda Ramaniael.” Victor intoned, and a conflagration of light and darkness erupted within the room, shaking loose items to the floor as angels became manifest within it.

“If you touch my Deniel…” Cirice hissed, locked in a grapple with an umbral angel, her armor shining like a star.

“Your authority does not encompass me, Cupid!” The Umbral Angel retorted, her inhumanly beautiful features twisted in a grimace as she struggled against the rose-glowing figure of your angelic fiancee.

“You see? We are the same.” Victor concluded. “Ramaniael… Release her.”

“My love, I…” The Umbral objected.

“Cirice… I was out of order.” You admitted.

“Deniel…” Cirice whispered, releasing the Dark Angel reluctantly and floating to your side, touching your cheek briefly. “…You stink of that Thrall.”

You grinned sheepishly “I’m sorry.”

Cirice’s perfect features twisted into a petulant pout. “Hmph… Well… Deal with it sooner rather than later. You owe me a kiss.”

“I can sense my sister within him.” The Dark Angel stated gloweringly. “It is Heresy.”

“All things end as the Dark God dictates, my love.” Victor offered, kissing the Umbral Angel’s hand lingeringly. “Go. I believe he understands now.”

In a shattering thump of soundless thunder, both angels vanished from view.

“I can’t escape it… Can I?” You sighed dejectedly.

“Only the Gods know the end of your path.” Victor stated simply “And Lord Corvus has not shown it to me. Now. What do you seek to repay the Kindness shown to Jamie?”

“What’s with the shortstack?” Mark demanded as the Corvidian and his “Squire” dismounted the smoking felsteed, before it vanished into a cloud of black smoke.

“Shortstack?!” Sasha seethed, rounding on the vampire’s thrall, murder writ large in her eyes.

“She’ll be coming with us. Her people are resistant to all kinds of magic.” You explained quickly, putting yourself between the Thrall and the Dwarf. “She can help.”

“Oh.” Mark remarked simply, taking another pull from the blood flask. His eyes widened as he removed it from his lips, their red-rimmed expanses speaking to his growing horror as he tipped it upside down.

“Empty…” He moaned despairingly.

“Time is not our ally in this.” Victor stated simply. “Do you have the means to speed yourself hence?”

“The damn witch will be able to smell us a mile off if I do!” Mark blustered.

“Good.” Victor nodded. “I want her to know I come…There can be no mistaking our intent.”

“Excuse me…” You interjected. “…Uh… I don’t…”

“If you have the capacity to learn, I can teach you how to speak to the Void.” Victor offered.

“Ohhhh no no no…” Mark interjected. “…Never met a man who didn’t go a bit mad after staring into the void for the first time. Deniel, you’re a stout lad, yeah? Give me a half a pint of your blood and we’ll be right as rain, trust me.”

>Learn Void Magic from Victor

>Trust Mark’s Blood Magic

>Fuck ‘em both, Call Cirice to fly you there

>Something Else?

>>399588

>Learn Void Magic from Victor

Most people may go a bit mad when they stare into the void. But Deniel is not like most people. Most do not have the souls of umbral and celestial angels mixed with their own. Lets learn this magic.

>>399588

Honestly, I think we should ask Circie for her opinion.

On one hand, We kinda owe Mark at this point since he's always been right thus far, But I am kinda weary about giving a bloodmage our own blood. That usually ends poorly in most normal cases, And we have a ton of ludicrously potent angel blood in us. Hell we might inadvertently smite Mark if he's not expecting it.

On the other side, We get a new branch of powers but at the cost of possibly going a tad bit insane, While looking to face a very formidable and tricky foe, Who's ultimate goal is to rape and consume us. On that note, Perhaps we should make an agreement with Mark and Victor that should things start to look poor and we are killed, That they at first opportunity dispose of our body, So the witch can't get her hands on our blood or essence

Can't really pick a side, But under no circumstances should we allow Circie to be anywhere near or anyhow involved in this expedition. We cannot allow even the smallest chance that Mother can get her hands on Circie. We die first

>>399627

>I think we should ask Circie for her opinion.

We shouldn't bug her about every little thing. But I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask her, mentally. Though she'll obviously be against giving our blood to the thrall.

>Can't really pick a side

Like I pointed out, that speculation about madness is for normal people. And Deniel himself has observed that due to the influence of the angels bound to him, there is virtually no magic that he couldn't learn. I see no reason not to expand our horizons (and power) with this void magic.

>>399630

I normally agree but this is mainly an excuse to give RD a chance to chime in.

As for Circie herself, I'd probably wager the first option. As disgusting as she finds the thrall, Its ultimately a safe action for us, Assuming Mark doesn't just explode like a hand grenade. While I'd support your reasoning in regards to our mental fortitude, And lean to it as well, We are still taking an irrevocable risk on Deniel's behalf.

>>399627

Another thing worth noting is that "the Void" is Corvus, who is literally the father of Reitia, and a good man (God). So I doubt even Reitia would disapprove, though I can't say that with certainty. I know that she loves her father dearly, as much as he loves her back. I don't know if you've read any of the lore beyond this story, so I may be overstating some of this, if you have.

>>399632

>>399631

Now that I think on it, we should ask Reitia how she feels about us interacting with other Gods. I don't think she'd be jealous if it were her own Father, but you never know.

>>399631

If you haven't read the other stories (they are great and really add a lot to this one), and you'd like to then let me know and I'll give you links.

>>399588

learning void magic wins because getting the succ from a sparklepire is big gay

>>399588

I'm against giving mark our blood because i'm not sure how that would affect him, given our circumstances with our folks. I'd be with learning some void magic. I think Deniel has the fortitude to do so, even after learning about how mom and dad fucked us up.

>>399588

I dunno, I'm up for letting Mark have some of our blood, but only if we bleed into a jar or something and then he drinks it, because him sucking it directly would be gay

I'm hoping to bully Cirice by smelling of femdom until she pins us down and forcibly bathes us, then bullying her some more for thinking femdom smells stinky