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Hawksong! This towering metropolis of brick and glass is the surface world's pinnacle of civilization, a hub of trade and a bastion of law and order. Ruled over by the Paladin King Archos, Hawksong is home to over ten thousand humanoids (and to a smattering of beastfolk), from all over the world…

And now, it plays host to you, a subversive agent from BENEATH that world, here to subvert it.

You are an Infiltrator, a half-human scion of the Reptilian Master Race. In service to The dark designs of your ancient gods and their Serpent Priests, you were raised to wreak havoc in the very city where you were conceived. Despite some setbacks and segues, you've done a fine job of it, too, if you don't say so yourself!

Thus far, you have:

>infiltrated and ascended the ranks of a local brothel, building your subversive and seductive skills etc and developing a cover identity which allows you access to a wide range of possible targets
>unearthed an undercity conspiracy of wererats AND a dangerously-knowledgeable pair of demonologists, and framed the former for the murder of the latter
>discovered and discredited a loose end left behind by a previous operative, in the form of a vengeful nobleman who knows of your people's plans
>investigated the details of a city defence plan, involving the Paladin King and Archmage, and artefacts from a mysterious dwarven ruin
>insinuated yourself into a position of trust and affection of leadership in The Engelson Storehouse Company, and used your subtle (and anal) arts to secure that same company’s access to the aforementioned excavated materials
>unlocked your latent illusion abilities
>made a contract with a succubus, enhancing your mystical powers and defences even further

Of course you, you've run into your fair share of challenges as well…
>The demonologist you had executed (Lady Zivic) remains alive, after an undead fashion, and bonded to an ambitious demon
>The wererats, though scattered, yet live, including their leader Boss Leo
>The Mages Tower is investigating several crimes in which you have direct or indirect involvement
>The same demonic contract which made you so much more powerful ALSO has created complications for your plan to attend a Tower Gala in a couple weeks' time for the purposes of subverting the city defences
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>>4918227
[LEVEL UP: You have become better still at dance, occultism, illusion, and merchantilism.

When facing a matter where success is not guaranteed or terribly likely, failure has notable consequences, and I’d feel railroady making you fail or cheap forcing a success, I will roll dice. Currently, that is 1d20 for most tasks. You get to roll 2d20 (taking the highest) for tasks involving: intimidation, swordsmanship. You roll 3d20 for matters related to dance, stealth, seduction or politesse, merchantilism, and arcane studies. Where illusion or occultism is concerned, you roll 4d20. Combining aptitudes, such as seduction and politesse or emotion-affecting illusion, can secure you the coveted 5d20. This is based on choices you’ve made.

You also have an inherent bonus to disguise attempts when relevant, can use human magic items without your Reptilian race’s usual penalty, and you have a decreased difficulty to rolls wherein you fight an untrained opponent hand-to-hand due to martial arts training.

Having been possessed by the succubus Irinnile, you can also shift your shape (including to create wings or natural weapons), sense and influence emotions and even read surface-level thoughts or enter dreams, and you are seemingly immune to permanent injury as a result of fire and mundane weapons.

As a general rule, DCs are 15, but disguise, magic item use, and favourable melees as discussed have DC 10. Thanks to Irinnile’s powers, you also currently have this reduced DC of 10 for nighttime or shadowy stealth checks, and for seduction rolls.

However, your demonic powers are not without a price: Irinnile has a powerful sense of <WANT> at the core of her being. Every time you use her powers or deny her something she desires, the <WANT> grows stronger, increasing the DC of rolls to control her impulses. Should you fail, she will subsume your personality long enough to satisfy herself, sometimes at the cost of lives and the risk of exposure. Your current level of <WANT> is DC 14.

Rolls will be used somewhat sparingly, though overuse of demonic powers may cause them to be more frequent than they would otherwise.]


[ Previous volumes, for those of you just joining us, are at http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=reptoidqm ]
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>>4918228
Today, you are NOT subverting surface society. Well… Maybe a little, later, as a treat. You DO have a scheduled business meeting to discuss the distribution of a potent stimulant among the city’s upper echelon.

At this exact moment, though, you and Edwin of Engel (your cover identity’s defacto boyfriend and sugar daddy, for whom you MAY admittedly have actual affections) are out for a long overdue excursion: a bit of sightseeing (and, to your delight, shopping) around this glorious city on the hill. The poor sap has been pestering you for a ‘date day’ for a while now and, if you MUST engage in frivolities with your favorite wealthy, well-hung wannabe wizard… Well, you can think of less pleasant ways.


What do you do for your date?
>Go see some of the architectural and botanical wonders of the city in the Royal Gardens
>Check out the Initiate’s Village around the Hawksong Mages Tower, where magic items and services are available—albeit for a steep price
>Walk among the ships and shipping at the Hawksong port, and maybe catch a few shanties and a drink at a pub
>Head over to the Smithing District, where men and dwarves work metals and gems into sturdy tools and fine jewels
>Go pay a visit to your friend/patsy/bullying victim, the seamstress Agatha Johan
>Write-in
[Please also note if there’s anything, specifically, you are angling for Edwin to buy you, or if you wish to discuss anything with him along the way]
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>>4918230
>Head over to the Smithing District, where men and dwarves work metals and gems into sturdy tools and fine jewels
Dwarves are cool, we could look what are the best armors they have to offer (mot planning to buy, just curious about the craftsmanship and possible enchantments). Also get some jewelry (necklace, earrings bracelets?) to match our dress.

>Walk among the ships and shipping at the Hawksong port, and maybe catch a few shanties and a drink at a pub
Let's take a walk through the port, observe ship traffic and look around for place/s where we could let Irinnile loose and satisfy her needs at night. I mean, she can just shapeshift into a random woman and let sailors run a train on her ass. They aren't lone wimps and will take it better than the pair she jumped last night. This would require us to get her word not to turn into her real form, though.
>>
so are you guys carrying on the mission or has your time with humanity turned our MC to their side
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>>4918243
[A fierce mental debate with the demon within seems to have concluded with both an affirmation of the Infiltrator's sensse of duty to The Dark Gods Beyond and Below... And a vague sense of unease about what their future holds for one such as her. See last thread for details!]
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>>4918243
We're still infiltrating those monkeys, worry not. Just doing a lot of side shit to keep our current assets and trying to start a drug business on a side so we can dominate Hawksong using the power of capitalism. Also Roth is being an insufferable faggot and I will not stop insisting on trying to peg him.
>>4918249
Also this, yeah.
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>>4918249
ah damn shame then, oh well, hope you have a good quest. I'd rather have gone rogue and turned on the dark forces that will almost certainly cast us aside when our use runs out, but I wasn't there for that debate, and it sounds like you all firmly settled on the side of bootlicking. Have fun being a dark gods pawn. Still qm good luck with the quest hope your readers end up happy on the path they have chosen.
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>>4918230
>Check out the Initiate’s Village around the Hawksong Mages Tower, where magic items and services are available—albeit for a steep price
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>>4918269
[Your defiance is noted.]

But in all seriousness, while I'm fine to run with either, it's a bit odd in my opinion to complain about the quest progressing along the lines of its basic premise. It isn't Reptilian Defector Quest, after all. Maybe it Wille valve in that direction, or maybe someday I'll run such a thing if there's interest.
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>>4918739
Not complaining, so much as popping in asking what's happening, find out what it's all about, and respectfully passing on with a jokey farewell to a successful QM
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>>4918739
Personally, the reason why I like this quest so much is the fact that Ismena is still the same sociopathic reptilian agent at the core. I like to actually roleplay as a character from time to time and deal with imperfect situations instead of trying to turn the entire world into an impossible utopia and bend MC's personality to fit some fucking human ideal all the time. Do most players have a hero complex or something?

Hopefully the Dark Gods aren't a hoax, though. It'd be hard to justify obedience to gay daymons.
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>>4918269
>QM hints at unease with the Dark Gods and their designs
>decides to yeet the quest instead of actively advocating against the Dark Gods

No wonder the forces of evil are running rampant in the world. I wasn't particularly enamored with the Dark Gods, but you have now made me invested in their rise to power. Fun times ahead.

>>4918975
I agree.
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>>4918242
>>4918646
+1

Get jewelry, have Edwin become a kid in a magic shop, and end it with a bit of a seaside stroll.

We should bully Agatha again soon though.
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>>4919010
>>decides to yeet the quest instead of actively advocating against the Dark Gods
I, for one, am completely fine with that!

Come to think of it, maybe Ismena should try to connect with Dark Gods through sleep/meditation? She likely won't get satisfiable results, but it could potentially help sort out her unease and worries.
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>>4919020
Think of all the ways Irinnile could bully her at work if she possessed her boss.
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>>4919023
+1

When it doubt, double down! I do hope we can explore the dreamscape more as well.

>>4919030
But only we can sexually bully her! We found her first, first dibs apply!
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>>4919051
>>4919023
>>4919020
>>4918242
>>4918646

“Sso,” you say, looking up from your map of the city, “I wass thinking a vissit to the Ssmithing Disstrict firsst.”

“First?” Edwin asks, raising his eyebrows. “Don't you have a meeting with Father and your ‘spice' contact from Eastern Standard in the early afternoon? How many places are you planning to visit?”

“That'ss why we're using the company coach,” you remind him.

Indeed, you and Edwin are both loaded into the back of his family ‘s coach—mainky used for professional purposes by the House of Engel, and thus emblazoned with the heraldry of the Engelsob Storehouse Company: a pelican with a filled pouch, with three boxes below it, upon a horizontally-divided gold and blue field.

“Even so…” Edwin says.

“You won't be sso conccerned about our schedule when you find out what the ssecond sstop iss,” you say, nudging him in the side with you elbow and smiling knowingly.

Edwin has been a sport, and you plan to milk him for some flashy accessories before the upcoming Tower gala, so a trip to the Initiates' Village where he can obsess over some magic is the least you can do. Besides, it could be good recon. You still aren’t certain how you will infiltrate the place…

Despite the stated goal of a fun and relaxing morning, the last thought turns your mind inward, upon the demonic passenger who now complicates your REAL goals. She has been sulking silent since you refused to let her insinuate her energy-draining into your sex life with Edwin, but still she lingers within you and weighs heavy in your mind. Irinnile is a source of great power, but she also is surely going to glow like a beacon bearing bad news when the Tower mages turn their mystical senses upon you. She'd mentioned there were charms to suppress a demon's presence and you know from experience that rituals can relocate a dread spirit of her ilk from one vessel to another.

As you mentally debate over how to handle the succubus, your thoughts spiral to still lower, darker realms of anxiety. Though you've tried to put it out of your mind, Irinnile's skeptical analysis of your own mission and the Serpent Priests and Dark Gods who direct it has stuck with you, like a stubborn splinter in the bulwark of your faith and duty. Though you hold fast to your loyalty, you cannot help but wonder if there is truth in her critique. Perhaps, through meditation or the succubus' own dream-magic, you could make some form of contact with the great and eldritch masters who dwell deep I’m the earth and far beyond the stars, and find some peace in their majestic power and infinite well of secret knowledge?

“Izzy?”

Edwin's voice interrupts your thoughts. You look up, and he is already out of the cart, offering you a hand.

“We're here,” he beckons you. “Come on!”

You affect a smile and take his hand.
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>>4919256
Stepping out of the carriage, you enter a world of metallic noise. Such wonders there are here—by pitiful, mammalian surface standards—with dwarves, men, and halflings working clever tools to make yet cleverer devices, or toiling powerfully and sweating over anvils, forges, and bellows. You feel the heat of steel-melting flame, and the stirring of Irinnile within you in response to your own varied excitements.

There is little in the way of actual retail space here—most who craft or forge in this place then sell their wares wholesale—but you can see small kiosks offering direct sales at discount prices, while high-rollers in elegant and stylish daywear or gaudy adventurer chic cab be spotted paying patronage for commissioned pieces. And here you are, rolling with just such a well-to-do male yourself! Your eyes shine almost as brightly as the steel, gold, and gems as you consider your prospects.

“Where to, Izzy?” Edwin rightly defers to your almost draconic treasure-lust.
>Gems and jewelry, OBVIOUSLY
>Your existing knife has proven less than ideal at times—perhaps you could use a proper sword, or some heavier armour?
>Magic items are on the docket for later, but perhaps you could kill two mammals with one brick and find something interesting here…
>Gadgetry is an aspect of surface-world technology you've scarcely explored, and it intrigues you
>The Mission has been sorely neglected, you now realize; you will chat up some dwarves smith’s about their ancestral architecture and enchantments, to better understand the new city defence plan
>Write-in
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>>4918973
[It's well-taken, and thanks for the kind words, though I think >>4919010 raises a good point. Still, others seem to enjoy the current course, and you never know if I'll get a hankering for a sequel quest sometime. I'll keep the QTG posted if run something more heroic or individualistic in its initial premise.]
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>>4919257
>Gadgetry is an aspect of surface-world technology you've scarcely explored, and it intrigues you

I too am 100% down to be a pawn of the Dark Gods. If we do a good enough job infiltrating maybe sempais will notice us.
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>>4919257
>Gems and jewelry, OBVIOUSLY
>Gadgetry is an aspect of surface-world technology you've scarcely explored, and it intrigues you
ideally try to use our interest in gadgetry to:
>Chat up some dwarves about their ancestral architecture and enchantments, to better understand the new city defence plan

Hopefully this makes sense. I assumed that dwarves would be the engineery types making small devices and we could try to grab some intel while we're around them.
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>>4919602
+1
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>>4919739
>>4919602
>>4919272
While you’d come here primarily to accessorize your dress, you find your attention captivated by the display of one dwarven craftsman. In front of the hairy little mammal’s workshop is a menagerie such as you’ve never seen: rolling wheels within wheels, metallic birds with stiff necks and legs who compulsively dip their beaks into cups of water, strange clicking apparati covered in numbers. At its centre is a single monkey—a tiny tropical beast closely related to the human race. It grits its teeth in rigor grin, staring through dead eyes and periodically banging together a pair of cymbals to draw the attentions of passersby.

“What ISSS all thiss?”

“Engines,” Edwin answers, vaguely. “Clever… Sort of a magical tool, but without the magic. They use steam and water, and turning of wheels and gears, to kind of emulate a basic enchantment.”

Edwin seems nearly as intrigued as you, and the two of your approach the stall. The proprietor notices your arrival, and steps foreward to meet you: a beady-eyed, spectacled thing with bristly blonde beard cut somewhat unevenly, and wearing a skullcap.

“Welcome, welcome, honoured visitors,” he says in a low voice, looking up at you both and bowing his head slightly. “Is there something which caches your eye?”

“Oh, no,” Edwin chuckles nervously. “We can’t really afford—”

“I promise you,” the dwarf powers through his objection, “that I am the equal of any engineer at half the price.”

You’re surprised to hear Edwin worry about cost—the man normally spends his stipend of gold coins like they were copper pieces. These ‘engines’ must be expensive indeed. Luckily, you are less interested in acquiring a dipping-bird than information.

“I have heard that you dwarvess were quiet sskilled in enchantment,” you interrupt Edwin’s repeated and increasingly awkward refusals of the dwarf’s sales pitch. “If I may assk… Why do you emulate through enginess what can be done with magic?”

“Why does a human learn to swing a sword when he can just shoot a lightning bolt from a finegr?” the dwarf counters, a bit brusquely. “Why does an elf even learn an instrument, if she can just sing a song and do a dance and wow a crowd?”

You take his meaning: not all dwarves are magical, or at least not the equal of one another, in the same way a human may not be a mage; while some elves may be singers, others may find that their favoured instrument is a more satisfying performance. At least, you think that’s what the dwarven engineer means. You nod along.

One device in particular, however, catches your eye: a little tiny tin soldier, marching in place and jabbing a banner-festooned pike skywards in a mockery of a Paladin’s attendant. You have seen such men, fleshy rather than mechanical and full-sized, around town in your travels. You point to it, and the dwarf and Edwin follow your gesture.
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>>4919806
“Thiss one… What iss it?” you ask.

The dwarf inclines his head. “A good eye. That one is indeed based upon the works of he ancestors.”

“I thought engines were a new contrivance,” Edwin notes.

“Yes, but as your lovely lady did indicate, enchantment is a far more ancient art.”

Your head snaps to the dwarf. “Pardon me? Do you mean to ssay that dwarven enchantment can make a little metal man march?”

“Not just a little one, and not just in place,” the dwarf says sagely, and perhaps with a small amount of racial pride. “The elders of ancient days would animate great stone or metal men and set them to patrolling the walls of our keeps, repairing damage and repelling foes!”

“Surely not!” Edwin says. “I mean… Sorry. I just can’t imagine an engine having the intelligence to do a labourer’s work, left alone a skilled craftsman’s or a soldier’s. I mean no offence…”

“Your magical bias is showing, wizard,” the dwarf says, gesturing to your companion’s pointy hat. “But you’re right—I’m afraid I must admit that my art is not yet at that same level. But what dwarven enchanter today can achieve such a feat? It’s rare in all professions since the greatest of the old companies went bankrupt and foreclosed, their intellectual property lost.”

You are barely listening now. It’s all beginning to come together—what you read of the dwarves enchantments, their old modular architecture and sculpture and relics, their magics. The city defence plan… Could they mean to mobilize a corps of stone soldiers?

[Continuing, just need to head to work. The remainder will be forthcoming ASAP.]
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>>4919807
Indeed, the wares at the engineer’s workshop prove more expensive than Edwin is comfortable with—he buys a single dipping bird out of apparent polite obligation, and even that costs half the gold coins on his person. You almost, ALMOST feel guilty when you drag him along to a halfling jeweler’s bench next, and ‘massage’ him into half again of what remains on a matching set of gold-and-malachite bangles. Damned in they won't look amazing with your deep green velvet dress, though—something your date also readily acquiesces to.

“Shall we head to the Initiates’ Village?” Edwin asks with the barely-concealed impatience of many a man dragged along on a shopping excursion by their significant other. “I'm pretty sure there's only window shopping to be head for us there, though…”

What you do?
>Hold up--there's something else you want to do in the Smithing District, first [what?]
>Yes, let's get going!
>Skip the Initiates' Village, and head straight to the docks
>Write-in
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>>4919829
>Yes, let's get going!

We've tortured his purse enough
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>>4919829
>Apologize
>Yes, let's get going!
Poor tortured Edwin, let's focus on his mammalian ego now. We need to take a look at those docks eventually, tho.
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>>4919829
>Skip the Initiates' Village, and head straight to the docks
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>>4919010
alright then be an asshole about it. the QM also said you guys had already debated, and voted on it, and you went for reaffirming your loyalty. that sounds like a completed character arc for destroy any chance of switching sides, so what exactly would I be fighting for? my personal preference to see the MC side with humanity, going against character development? no thank you that just sounds like a painful hate-filled time for all

>>4919258
It's a matter of not wanting to shit up the quest that has already set its course, and trying to force a 180, that people don't want. I have been there, done that, and I never want to do it again, got invest in a quest, that has two very different divergent paths, and it was a constant struggle between the two sides. it got to the point that it was just not even enjoyable to show up for the lives, so I just quit. I've learned it's better to pick your battles than to die on every hill.

Sure I could jump in bombastically, and advocate against, the already debated and voted on choice to align with the dark gods, but that feels like a waste of time and energy that will do nowhere. Only causing salt, and vitreal for everyone. So better to wish you good luck, and move on to something else that is more my speed.
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>>4920137
[As I said: point well-taken! I'd say that people seemed a bit ambivalent on the Dark Gods yet, but there was a lot of doubling-down in response to your post, so I may be wrong! As I said, if I run a sequel or spinoff with a more pro-humanity or heroic bent, I'll be sure to shill it in the QTG!]
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>>4920137
>alright then be an asshole about it
I don't think that was anon's intention

>my personal preference to see the MC side with humanity, going against character development
Could you elaborate why and how would you do that? Asking because I like to consider alternate developments and because rebel path seems to be more common among the quests (afaik).

>constant struggle between the two sides
I hate this so much. Early stages of RIQ kinda felt like this too, with all the coom wars, muggings and whatnot. Props for not being a shitter. Which quest did you mean, that had divergent paths?

>>4920284
I was the one behind any doubts last thread, but even then it wasn't to show distrust towards the Dark Gods, only Ismena fending for herself among the snakes while taking her part in the Grand Design.
Sorry for off-topic.
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>>4920284
>As I said, if I run a sequel or spinoff with a more pro-humanity or heroic bent, I'll be sure to shill it in the QTG!
If it happens I hope to see you then, and again, I wish you the best with your quest ReptoidQMonaphone

>>4920320
>I hate this so much. Early stages of RIQ kinda felt like this too, with all the coom wars, muggings and whatnot. Props for not being a shitter. Which quest did you mean, that had divergent paths?
it wasn't on /qst/ it was on akun, and let me tell you the place's rep is well earned there are a few gems in there, but overall it's just not worth it.

>Could you elaborate why and how would you do that? Asking because I like to consider alternate developments and because rebel path seems to be more common among the quests (afaik).

for me, I have never enjoyed a where the villain, monster, or being of unfathomable evil wins. starting out as an underling of the bbeg is interesting, and can be a lot of fun, but it usually leads to a divergence point where you either double down on the horrific things your boss is having you do, or you break away. and I guess it comes down to what a person enjoys and aiding a dark god in the subversion, and all the horrific things that will come with it, just isn't fun to me. which is why I would advocate going down a different path, however, the moment for that passed last thread as QM told me.

and now you have people doubling down using my interjection as justification to do so. which gives me even less of a reason to try to sway things backwards and down the path of supporting humanity. At this point, I would be actively working against the rest or most of the questers and the vision they have for the character and story they have as a whole, and I have been down the path too many times to be bothered with trying it again, because even if I "win" we all lose, because of the salt, and shit throwing I see it takes to get there.

Thanks for the question by the way anon, you have a good one, oh, and if you are not put off by my warning look into fiction.live, they have a chat for quests
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>>4919853
>>4919987
>>4920012
“Yess, yess,” you say, hopping into the carriage and patting the seat beside you. “Come along, your thing iss nexxt!”

Edwin's excitement at the prospect fo a visit visit the Initiates’ Village is matched only by his concern about your schedule.

“Well you can't be late,” he says, staring down at his knees, “but is it REALLY a visit to the Village without seeing the Endless Fountain and throwing a coin in? But we spent so many… And anyway, we HAVE to see a street duel, and if we do we have to tip the loser. And do we even have time to wait for two mages to get into it? Maybe we can split the difference and get some drake skewers—they cook those with a steady stream of lightning, redirected between two mages! Are you hungry enough for skewers?”

“We're eating later, at the meeting,” you remind him, resting a hand on his arm and snuggling in. “And as you yoursself ssaid, window shopping only, right?”

Edwin sighs and nods, but you can already tell by the excited energy radiating off of him that his mood has improved immensely.

‘Can't believe he has that much mana and you won't even let me have a nibble,’ a gloomy voice whines from within.

‘Irinnile,’ you address the succubus through your shared mindscape, ‘I see you're done sulking.’

‘Not yet I’m not,’ she counters. ‘Can I at least chow down on a bit of stray magic?’

‘And how would we accomplish that?’ you ask.

‘Aside from the obvious?’

‘I'm not engaging in illicit sexual intercourse with anyone in a back alley while I'm on a date,’ you state plainly.

‘Uuugghh, fiiine,’ she concedes. ‘You could put on one of your shows. They do magic busking, by the sounds of it. You could start one of those street duels that Eddie is so keen on?’

“We're here!” Eddie—Edwin, rather—declares, standing up and banging his head on the carriage ceiling in his excitement.
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>>4920563
You step out into a realm of ornately-ornamented old tenements, most no more than three or four levels and many clearly convert manor-houses from when Hawksong was a much smaller city. They grow out in concentric circles or winding, dead-end roadways that must one have made sense. Despite their aged appearance, fresh coats of strangely-refractive paint and the bustle of young people in pointed caps keep the affair liberty, and curiously eldritch. You see more than a few people riding brooms swoop by overhead, avoiding the hustle and bustle. Still others wear or carry what are clearly enchanted items of some sort—the glow gives them away to your succubus senses—or are followed by strange and uncommon beasties on custom leads of exotic material.

By the looks of it, there are few things in the Initiates’ Village which DON'T interest Edwin, which gives you free rein. What do you do?
>Appease Irinnile and Edwin by honing your magical skills in a mages street duel
>Ogle some pricey magic items to amuse your boytoy
>Visit this ‘Endless Fountain’
>Grab a snack before the meeting—you’d like to see lightning magic in action
>Explore a particular avenue of arcana [please specify]
>Ask Irinnile something [what?]
>Ask Edwin something [what?]
>Write-in
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>>4920566
>Appease Irinnile and Edwin by honing your magical skills in a mages street duel

>Ogle some pricey magic items to amuse your boytoy

>Explore a particular avenue of arcana [please specify]
antimagic? metamagic?

gotta save some stuff for the return trip
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>>4920591
+1

We'll save the 'Endless Fountain' for the end of the Initiates' Village trip. What about a bit of mememagic? ;^)

>>4920137
Oho? Seems one doth protest too much. Surely you knew calling us bootlickers when you haven't been keeping up the quest doesn't make me the asshole in this conversation?

And I don't see characters arcs as one-and-done sort of affairs, but if you ain't willing to fight for what you believe in, then you reap what you sow. The seeds of good deeds do not bear fruit in a day, but hey, at least you can claim that you haven't tried in the first place.

>>4920464
>coming from akun

I'm not surprised that you had a shit time there, but that doesn't mean that /qst/ is the same sort of beast.

You seem like a good lad, but it's good to keep prospective that this is a fantasy ultimately, and that getting too emotionally involved in it will burn you out, especially if you attack people in your arguments. Maybe you should try a different approach, take a bit of a chill pill, and try a different quest out of your comfort zone. It doesn't have to be forever, and you can leave whenever you want, but you can try to enjoy the journey, instead of focusing too much on the end goal.

If you don't decide to stick around, I do hope you find the hero quest you're looking for mate.
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>>4920757
[In fairness, the Humanity Hero Anon stuck around for some time, until he was sure the quest was not for him. I empathize and respect that.]
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>>4920763
Ah. That's a shame. Sometimes you just have to let go and enjoy the flow a little, ya know?
>>
>>4920566
>>4920591
I'll +1 this.
Especially the majeeks.
>>
Rolled 1, 85, 53 = 139 (3d100)

>>4920979
>>4920757
>>4920566
>>
>>4921028
Da fuck?

>dat 1

I certainly hope that wasn't us there mate.
>>
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>>4921028
‘Fine,’ you tell Irinnile, ‘I’ll consider a duel.’

You excitement bubbles up inside you like remembered brandy-warmth, leaving you a little flushed—or is that your skin reddening towards the demonic hue of the demon’s avatar? You glance at your hand, unsure if you notice a change or not. Before Edwin can question any subtle differences, you grab his wrist and haul him off to explore some of the magic item boutiques which dot this district.

Edwin’s eyes light up like a child being given her first surface-familiarization assignment—or, well, that’s your own frame of reference, anyway.

“Heavens ABOVE, look at that! Flying Boots!”

“Yess, they are quite nicce, in conccept,” you agree of the winged boots your date is drooling over. “Perhapss not esspecially sstylish, though…”

“Well I know I’m no style expert like you, but I think soaring the skies with the ease of the king’s own gryphon sort of makes up for it!” He says.

“The king’s gryphon flies?” you ask, feeling a bolt of fear travel down your spine at the thought of one of the enormous, predatory catbirds you’ve seen Paladin’s astride, bearing down from above. Perhaps even on Irinnile’s batwings, you are not safe…

“Hm? Yeah, of course,” Edwin says. “Hey, are you alright? You look a little… OH! Izzy, look at this SWORD!”

You dutifully follow Edwin, glad for the opportunity to regain your composure. Two magic items in particular seem to catch his eye: the winged boots of flight, and a shining sword with a silver-blue sheen along one edge, enchanted to cut through steel.

To your own eye, you see a few matters of interest. First is a display potions of vitality sold by a magical apothecary (“restores depleted mana and unlocks your potential—take it for late-night study or just before a test!”). You also catch sight of a very familiar-looking staff carved with swirling designs and with a hooded, cobra-like head, and glimmering gems for eyes. If you didn’t know better… Could it be? Is that a Serpent Priest’s divine staff?! The staff describe it as a “formerly-enchanted item of unknown lineage” with “only trace amounts of some transformative magic probably meant for parlour tricks”, but you sense more to it.

“By the gods I wish I could afford some of these,” Edwin sighs.

“We do extended credit to merchants in good standing,” a ‘helpful’ young saleswoman interjects. “That includes Engelson!”

“Oh!” he says. “Uh, thank you, but I don’t know about that…”

Do you encourage Edwin to buy any magic items on company credit?
>The winged boots, expensive though they may be
>The sword—you could sue a better weapon
>The potions—they’re cheaper, and could come in handy
>The staff—it’s discounted, albeit still pricey, and yours by blood-right!
>>
>>4921069
As the two of you peruse the items on display, you decide to pick the passionate male’s brain for some of his magic knowledge. If you’re going to duel, it’s best to be prepared.

“I’ve been wondering,” you ask, “what of the more… Esssoteric sschoolss of magic?”

Edwin quirks a brow. “What of them, sorry?”

“Well I can’t imagine these friendly street duelss ussually end with a gout of flame and a ssmouldering corpsse,” you explain. “What ssort of magic do people use to duel? Can they… Canccel sspellss? Modify them to ssome nonlethal form? Or do they wield ssome more ssubtle, mental art like my illusionss?”

Edwi nods along, and grins.

“Have you been studying without me?” he asks, teasingly—if only he knew! “You’re almost exactly right! Antimagic and metamagic are big. They’re a bit tricky to master, but the basics—a counterspell, a weakened nonlethal modification to an offensive spell—those are some of the first things they drum into students at the Tower. You can’t be doing summoning experiments if you have no way to undo them, I guess!”

“And the nonlethal sspellss?” you ask, curious. “Why emphassize that asspect in early education?”

“Well, you’ve probably noticed that a fair few students have familiars or magic items which would set someone back a few months in gold,” Edwin says.

That would be years of pay for someone making your wage or Agatha Johan’s, you mentally adjust for Edwin’s limited understanding of commoner finance. You nod.

“Well, the Tower offers loans for study purposes, aid of skilled mages in enchanting, rewards for performance and successful research… But that can make a mage a target for thieves,” Edwin continues. “If they only had lethal countermeasures to defend themselves…”

“Ssuddenly, they would have a lot of crisspy cutpursess and a bad reputation with non-magess,” you conclude. “I ssee.”

Well, it’s reassuring to know that a fumbled first duel won’t mean you death. You wonder if it’s possible to learn such power as a hedge-mage?
>>
>>4921070
As you are walking and talking, you bump into a pair of tall-hatted young mages, scarcely even adults, knocking one of them over with your superior sense of balance and automatic combat reflexes. A sheaf of papers scatter across the street, which the mage still standing scrambles to collect.

“HEY!” the girl you toppled shouts. “Watch where you’re going! Do you know how much WORK all that took, you clumsy idiot?!”

You start to apologize with the practiced politesse of an agent laying low, but before you can, a voice interrupts you.

‘Hey, hey, Lispy!’

‘Yes, Irinnile?’ you impatiently reply along the psychic link.

‘This is our chance for that duel!’

What do you do?
>Apologize and help collect the papers—you’re not ready for a duel, at least not like this
>Insult the mage-girl back, and challenge her to a duel
>Say sorry and assist, but request a duel on friendlier terms afterwards
>Offer a perfunctory apology and move along
>Write-in

also, I didn't specify, but of course on the other vote you're not OBLIGATED to encourage Edwin to buy anything, and can in fact DIScourage him
>>
>>4921069
>The staff—it’s discounted, albeit still pricey, and yours by blood-right!
Yes
>The sword—you could sue a better weapon
Would be nice, but I'm not worried if we don't get it.
>mana potions
Would that help feed Irinnile?

>>4921071
>Say sorry and assist, but request a duel on friendlier terms afterwards
>>
>>4921086
>Would that help feed Irinnile?

Asking Irinnile as you perused the wares, you'd get a mixed response: the idea of subsisting on raw mana potions fills her with the same visceral disgust a person might have to living on tacky, tasteless, insect-derived nutrient paste. However, she'd mention that if you're really quite concerned about Edwin or another victim/paramour, it could be used to offset the lifeforce they lose due to energy drain...

Presumably, though, only so long as she doesn't take it too far, like with that couple in the alley.
>>
>>4921071
>Insult the mage-girl back, and challenge her to a duel
>>
>>4920763
Yeah big respect for not tanking the quest because it didn't go his way

No one wants another royal rumble fiasco

>>4921069


>No items for now, maybe when we return

maybe we're gonna return alone and steal that staff tho

>Insult the mage-girl back, and challenge her to a duel
tell her we fucked her dad last night
wait fuck edwin's here nevermind
>>
>>4921070
>The potions—they’re cheaper, and could come in handy
>Insult the mage-girl back, and challenge her to a duel
>>
>>4921413
>>4921349
>>4921086
>>4921136

[On items, we have a vote for staff, a vote for nothing, a vote for potions, and an apparent abstention (which I will interpret as a vote for no items, if not corrected).

We seem to be set to insult the girl and to thus initiate a duel.

Writing in 45 or so minutes, if no clarifications, changes, or additional votes change the outcome first.]
>>
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Rolled 20, 17, 14 = 51 (3d20)

>>4921461
>>
>>4921069
>The staff—it’s discounted, albeit still pricey, and yours by blood-right!
Get the staff of the ADDERALL
>>4921071
>Offer a perfunctory apology and move along
I'd so sic Irinnile on her mind if we were sure there isn't a risk of detection.
>>
>>4921520
>>4921413
>>4921349
>>4921136
>>4921086

“Maybe you’d better void obsstacless if your nose wassn’t sso high up in the air,” you snipe back.

“Wh-what did you say to me, you whore?” the girl says, standing up with fists balled.

“Whore?” you laugh. “Iss that what your father wass trying to pay me after I fucked hiss brains out last night?”

“Izzy?” Edwin asks, trying to pull you away from the suddenly-escalating confrontation.

“Relaxx,” you reassure him softly, “I didn’t actually have ssexx with her father.”

“I gathered,” he says dryly, “but what are you doing?’

“You wanted to ssee a mage duel, right?” you say, smirking.

You can faintly hear the hot-headed mage-girl’s classmate trying to talk her down the same way Edwin is doing with you. You can’t have that so, pulling away from the well-meaning arcane enthusiast to confront the girl again, you lean over her belittling.

“You should lissten to your little friend here,” you say. “Your pathetic little ouncce of dignity issn’t worth getting humiliated in public by a hedge-mage. Why don’t you sscamper off to lick the Archmage’ss sslipperss?”

‘Oof, roasted,’ Irinnile chimes in. ‘Think we can dom her later?’

“That’s it! I’ve had enough cheek from you, you exam-flunking piece of street-refuse!” The girl says, throwing her hat down and drawing a pointed length of rune-inscribed wood from her robes. “I challenge you to a DUEL, bitch!”

A part of you wishes you’d egged Edwin into buying those mana potions now, but such is life. You have to imagine that wand of hers is going to provide an advantage in this confrontation, and you don’t actually have much in the way of offensive magic.

‘You have me, though,’ Irinnile says.

You don’t reply, focused on your footwork and your inner flow of magic as you square up with your adversary. You’ve drawn quite the crowd, including a concerned-looking Edwin, who hovers back but looks as if he’d desperately like to intervene, no lonegr s enthused to watch a clash of mages’ mana. The poor thing must realize he’s even less qualified for this confrontation than you are, however. He makes no move. Good boy.

You don’t wait for the mage-girl to strike first, but make your own move, twirling about and lashing out with a flash of light and shadow. She shields her eyes with her billowy sleeves, and you sharge in, sweeping the leg and grabbing a handful of fabric to stop her from hitting the ground.

“H-hey!” she protests, “this is a MAGES’ duel, you cheating hussy!”

“Your insults are very gendered,” you point out. “Perhapss your father usess the ssame harsh words with you as he doess with me?”

You send forth a psychic spear into the mage-girl’s subconscious, with Irinnile’s aid.

<WANT: 15>

“Ah,” you say, “That would be why he kept calling me ‘Wendy’, wouldn’t it?”
>>
>>4921541
The mage-girl’s eyes widen, the impossible and absurd fatherly insults you’ve been firing her way crystalized into something plausible as you strike at her insecurities and use her name—a name she never actually shared with you. Confused and furious, she shrieks in fury and hurls herself bodily at you, lashing out with a gout of flame from her wand…

But you are sharing a body with a succubus, your flesh no longer solely that of a Reptilian-human hybrid but also a demon from some fiery pit. Though you flinch, the flames do nothing. You are surprised, of course, despite Irinnile’s earlier assurances, but not so surprised as your opponent. Better yet, hapless Wendy has closed the distance for you, and undermined her own complaint about rules—she has attempted a lethal strike in a formal duel, and if you weren’t fireproof, you’d surely be dead or permanently scarred. You deliver a solid palm-strike to her abdomen, causing her to cough and sputter, and then bash your forehead to hers.

Wendy staggers back, but you catch her. Before she can recover, you cup her face and bring her eyes to your own, close enough to kiss. You will your illusion magic to well up and to illuminate your face and head with an aura of blinding light. The audience shields their eyes, but Wendy cannot—she cannot even squeeze them shut, influenced as she is by your glamour. She screams, and whimpers a muted surrender.

‘Now, do it!’ Irinnile enthuses, hopping up and down in the back of your being, ‘Kiss the girl!’

What do you do?
>Give Wendy the succubus’ kiss, draining her to alleviate your want [4d20, DC 15 to control Irinnile]
>Shove Wendy away and accept her surrender [<Want> will increase]
>Attempt to siphon a smaller amount of energy off of the crowd and Wendy alike, taking advantage of the ambient mana suffusing the area [4d20, DC 17]
>Just drain Wendy dry while the crowd is distracted, and try to play it up as an accident
>Write-in

>>4921527
Sorry, I'd already started the process. However, before you leave the area I'll do another 'any last things to handle' vote. Maybe you'll get that staff yet!
>>
>>4921543
>Give Wendy the succubus’ kiss, draining her to alleviate your want [4d20, DC 15 to control Irinnile]

Irinnile shouldn't want to blow our cover here either by draining too much, otherwise we get smited and she gets banished back to hell or wherever
>>
>>4921543
>Give Wendy the succubus’ kiss, draining her to alleviate your want [4d20, DC 15 to control Irinnile]

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TrRbB-qUJfY
>>
>>4921543
>Attempt to siphon a smaller amount of energy off of the crowd and Wendy alike, taking advantage of the ambient mana suffusing the area [4d20, DC 17]
>>
Rolled 13, 3, 7, 6 = 29 (4d20)

>>4921594
>>4921787
>>4921853
[Incoming]
>>
>>4921962
You feel a bit of trepidation at draining this Wendy human’s energy in public, but your victory was so decisive and your final blow so blindingly bright that you’ll surely never have another chance. Besides, her whimpers and her plump lips are so inviting. Surely Irinnile knows better than to risk exposure in such a place?

You lean in, and press your own to the mage-girl’s, muffling her cry of alarm and surprise.

‘Irinnile, what are you—’

It’s too late, though—your skin is tingling, your head swimming, your bosom heaving and swelling. You recognize the familiar signs of the oversexed, gluttonous spirit within you taking control of your physical vessel. You try to fight back, but the succubus’ hunger is too much for you. Her hands roam the mage’s body, and Wendy’s moans of protest turn to pleasure…

<WANT: 13>

...And then to protest again, and pain, and panic.

‘Ooo, that’s the good stuff,’ Irinnile gasps in your mind’s ear, as warmth and wetness suffuses your very soul.

<WANT: 11>

The flash of light and the residual glamour has faded away, leaving you exposed and clutching your conquest in ever-more-powerful arms. She goes limp in your body, eyes rolling back in her head.

“Ismena?”

Edwin’s voice breaks the spell, and you drop the mage’s body like it was a ragdoll. Murmurs and gasps go up from the crowd, but a fair share of woops and jeers of bemused or aroused male students in the crowd as well. You remember the conditions of chastity in the school; both the judgmental stares and the release of pent-up desire make sense in light of this. You doubt they’ll be so amiable when they realize you’ve left your rival duelist on death’s door. The coins they now fling at her—the tip for the loser, which Edwin alluded to as a part of this dueling tradition—will seem a grim jest if she perishes on the street, and you’ll be facing some serious attentions from the Tower investigators already nosing around the other crimes adjacent to your mission.
>>
>>4921971

“Izzy,” Edwin says, stepping forward and looking both embarrassed and concerned. “What’s going on?”

“Quiet!” you shout, and seeing him flinch, you gently add, “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just… Need a moment.”

‘Wait, wait, I can fix this!’ Irinnile hastily communicates. ‘Uhh… What about if I amplify your glamour with some of my patented emotional amplification? We can put these repressed virgins in a trance, get ‘em focused on how hot we are… Or on each other, and make a break for it?’

What do you do?
>Irinnile’s done enough damage—just get back to the carriage and get out of here
>Grab some mana potions while everyone’s distracted, and administer one to Wendy to keep her alive [Have Edwin pay? Steal them? Please specify]
>Use the distraction to grab the Serpent Priest staff
>Take Irinnile up on her offer to distract the crowd with a fog of desire [4d20, DC 13, <WANT +1>]
>Use illusion to cover your escape and ditch the crowd and Edwin—you need time to get your head right [4d20, DC 15]
>Write-in
>>
>>4921971

“Izzy,” Edwin says, stepping forward and looking both embarrassed and concerned. “What’s going on?”

“Quiet!” you shout, and seeing him flinch, you gently add, “Ssorry, I don’t know what came over me. I jusst… Need a moment.”

‘Wait, wait, I can fix this!’ Irinnile hastily communicates. ‘Uhh… What about if I amplify your glamour with some of my patented emotional amplification? We can put these repressed virgins in a trance, get ‘em focused on how hot we are… Or on each other, and make a break for it?’

What do you do?
>Irinnile’s done enough damage—just get back to the carriage and get out of here
>Grab some mana potions while everyone’s distracted, and administer one to Wendy to keep her alive [Have Edwin pay? Steal them? Please specify]
>Use the distraction to grab the Serpent Priest staff
>Take Irinnile up on her offer to distract the crowd with a fog of desire [4d20, DC 13, <WANT +1>]
>Use illusion to cover your escape and ditch the crowd and Edwin—you need time to get your head right [4d20, DC 15]
>Write-in
>>
>>4921974
>>4921980
>Take Irinnile up on her offer to distract the crowd with a fog of desire [4d20, DC 13, <WANT +1>]
>Grab some mana potions while everyone’s distracted, and administer one to Wendy to keep her alive [Have Edwin pay]

If Wendy dies, or our cover gets blown, I will destroy your existence. You get one more chance. Another public fuck up like that? You're out of here, and damn the consequences.

>Use the distraction to grab the Serpent Priest staff

This will be our only chance to get this, and we should've bought it before.
>>
>>4922000
Dark Gods below, we should've kept that damn diadem, or went down on Qicerys. This lack of control will be the death of us, and that's if we're lucky.
>>
>>4921980
>>4922000
+1

Now you see why I desperately wanted to back off from the succubus deal at first. Even though I changed my mind lately, I no longer think that keeping this redskin under control is possible. Bitch is too unhinged and lacks self-preservation instinct. She'll just keep draining people even after we make her possess someone else's body and eventually will put herself in spotlight.

Good luck for future us when we have to explain to Edwin what happened here. He just saw 'amateur' illusionist beat a mage, survive a fire blast without a scratch and sexually assault said mage in front of everyone.

It's a good reason and opportunity to banish the demon whore now, before she really ends up killing someone in public.
>>
>>4921980
Could we jump into Wendy’s mind and affect the way she remembers how this went down? I don’t want her having a vendetta with us after this. If we can’t, can we throw in a fantasy instead? Make it seem like the end of our mage duel was just apart of her getting knocked out and humiliated, and the weird life/death experience was just apart of her dreaming? Irinnile will probably make it a wet dream, but I couldn’t care less if it works.

>>4922041
The sad part is that I really like Irinnile’s character, and she has some pretty useful abilities. It’s unfortunate that none of said abilities are a direct boon to our infiltration mission, and her presence was already detrimental to the mission without her gobbling up people left and right. If she can’t control her WANT every time she drains someone, she’s an existential risk and threat to everything we have (our cover, mission, and life), and that is something I cannot tolerate.

I blame us for letting her consume in public, but if she goes off the reservation again in a way we don’t like, she will be gone. I’m giving you one last chance Irinnile. Don’t waste it.

Can we say that we used our illusions to avoid the fireblast (via fake fireproof Ismena) and that the sexual assault was our attempt to humiliate the bitch virgin mage in front of her peers for using a lethal spell on us out of nowhere (that she fainted from it was both unexpected and unfortunate given the situation)? I don’t want to have to explain the real reason behind this madness to Edwin.

Also, rip Endless Fountain. I did want to go there, but it seems it was never meant to be.
>>
>>4922115
>Could we jump into Wendy’s mind and affect the way she remembers how this went down?
I (>>4922041) second this also. Was gonna mention brainwashing, but wasn't sure about how to play things out yet.
>Can we say that we used our illusions to avoid the fireblast
Well, depending on how well we can brainfuck Wendy and how indistinguishable real fire is from the fake one, maybe we can pretend that she has used a non-lethal spell?
...unless the fire burnt our clothes.
>Sexual assault was our attempt to humiliate the bitch
Well, the best option I see is playing into the sex frenzy that Irinnile will create soon, pretending like we were the first ones to get affected, but recovered because of Edwin.
It sounds more cohesive.
>Edwin
I can't think of anything else we could tell him that would hold enough credibility and not put us into more explaining and pretending than we already have to do. Mind you, Edwin did see us with the succubus in that hijacked dream. If we were the only one acting up, then his first guess should be that we might actually be possessed by a fuck demon.
Another thing is that if he knows/figures out the other visitor in his dream was real, then he has no reason to doubt our presence there could've been real as well.

>Irinnile’s character
I don't dislike her, but aside for a-bit-too-playful personality she is a demonic fuck who just wants to leech life from people. Remember she tried to feed on Edwin, too.

>I blame us for letting her consume in public
It was a bruh moment indeed.

>Also, rip Endless Fountain. I did want to go there, but it seems it was never meant to be.
We can always return for more sightseeing or abusing Wendy.

Anyway, whatever we do, we should do it quickly. Khajit has a drug deal waiting just for us and the guards will arrive asap once they hear about a massive orgy among the students. Let's just hope the spell won't target Edwin.
Escaping amidst a public orgy is actually pretty funny.
>>
>>4921980
>Take Irinnile up on her offer to distract the crowd with a fog of desire [4d20, DC 13, <WANT +1>]

>Grab some mana potions while everyone’s distracted, and administer one to Wendy to keep her alive [Have Edwin pay? Steal them? Please specify]
Thievery
>>
>>4922137
I would like to avoid a massive orgy if possible. Concerning brainwashing, I wouldn't know how that would work, but if she can be quick about it I would consent to it. I mostly just want to make sure we nip the problem in the bud right here instead of it blooming into a full on investigation by one party or another.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (341 KB, 436x380)
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Rolled 20, 2, 19, 15 = 56 (4d20)

>>4921980

>Take Irinnile up on her offer to distract the crowd with a fog of desire [4d20, DC 13, <WANT +1>]
>Grab some mana potions while everyone’s distracted, and administer one to Wendy to keep her alive [Have Edwin pay]
>Use the distraction to grab the Serpent Priest staff
>Jump into Wendy’s mind and affect the way she remembers how this went down

[Writing!]
>>
>>4922428
‘Irinnile,’ you shoot back the name by which the demon is bound, like a psychic punch in the face, ‘Do you lack basic self-preservation instinct?’

‘N-no, but I—’

‘If Wendy dies, or our cover gets blown, I will destroy your existence.’

‘Oh come on, you don’t even know how to do that!’ she protests.

‘I’ll find a way,’ you grimly reply. ‘I’m giving you one last chance Irinnile. Don’t waste it.’

With a melodramatic sigh, the succubus geos to work, amplifying and expanding your own glamour without even the need for somatic components. The crowd doesn’t descend into an orgy—at least, not yet—but you can see the dilated pupils, the flushed faces and ragged breathing. They’re in a state of pique, not unlike they have been drugged.

“Can you believe that some amateur demolished Wendy Parcelburg?” you hear a girl ask. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Forget that—I can’t believe she kissed her!” comes a reply from a young man. “That was… Something else.”

“Haha, yeah, sort of… Um, Chancey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to get lunch together?”

The street doesn’t descend into an absolute orgy—the sort of thing that would surely spell ‘demonic incident’ to Tower investigators or the Paladins—but instead into a fumblingly pathetic tornado of teenage-and-twenty-something hormones as the students are all suddenly keenly aware of how much they could go for some of what you and/or Wendy got.

‘Actual restraint?’ you ask Irinnile in surprise.

You get only the impression of embarrassed contrition. It seems she’s too busy—or too cowed—for actual words.

<WANT: 12>
>>
>>4922461
You get down and check Wendy’s pulse and breathing. You’re no expert in mammal medicine, but you get the impression she’s not actually physically damaged in any severe way, not like the couple in the alley. She might perhaps live without your intervention… Oh, but the stories she’d tell! If Irinnile’s ‘smokescreen’ has shielded you from immediate investigation, Wendy’s testimony would surely bring the malleus maleficarum down on your demon-inhabited head.

“Izzy?” Edwin asks. “Are you alright?”

You giggle, a bit of Rnnile’s affected ditziness slipping out. You clamp down on it. “Yeah, I guesss I jusst got carried away.”

“Well, it was… Quite the show. Still, as good a kisser as you are, I’ve never felt like I would actually faint.” Edwin’s expression turns a touch more serious, though, as he looks you over, “Are you okay? That fire…”

“I dodged it with an illusssion,” you bluff. Luckily, Wendy was aiming to burn your face, elaving your clothing lightly singed or soot-stained at worst. “Still, I think the poor thing might have overexxerted hersself. Be a dear and buy a mana potion or two?”

Edwin nods and runs along like a good puppet, and you return your attentions to Wendy, to continue damage control. Surely, with her new wellspring of power allowing her to physically influence so many bystanders, it should be a small thing to do a bit more precise psychic surgery on Wendy to alter her recollection of the event?

You focus your will, squinting your eyes and directing the sharp end of your demonic energies at the mage-girl’s short-term memory. You replace the fear and pain with embarrassment and mutual lust. By the time you’re done, you think you might have accidentally reprogrammed the Tower student into a homosexual, but that’s someone else’s problem… or not. Given her hang-ups around men who remind her of her father, you may have done her a favour.

Edwin returns, potions in hand. You snatch them both from his grasp with a quick peck on the cheek—stunned as he is by the same aura s the rest of the apes, he blushes and is immediately too distracted by the gesture to ask any further questions. You administer one to Wendy’s unprotesting form, who gulps it down like an elixir of life. For her, it just might be. The other goes into your pack.
>>
>>4922462
The situation handled—and with remarkable ease and precision, to put a more skilled operative to shame!—you take a breath. For all the trouble the demon causes, you have to admit that this clean-up job is not something any other Infiltrator could have affected so quickly to thoroughly. A public screw-up like this would have usually entailed a reassignment or execution.

However, the entire incident sadly cut into your date with Edwin. You sigh. You were actually looking froward to seeing what this ‘Endless Fountain’ was about. Still, it’s not a total loss, for in the chaos of the duel and its aftermath, you find the perfect opportunity to snatch up the Serpent Priest staff. Your adversaries’ confusion is, as always, your opportunity.

Edwin’s driver rolls up, and you slide the staff under your seat. You’ll extract and investigate it later—no need to instigate a concerned discussion or difficult questions with brazen broad-daylight burglary. Edwin hops in a moment later, none-the-wiser.

The carriage-ride towards the docks proceeds in awkward silence for a time, save the clunking of the wheels over cobblestones. Eventually, though, you break it.

“Ssorry for sspoiling our date,” you say, uncertain what excuse you could even craft to excuse or explain your actions. Damnit, Irinnile! And damn your own overconfidence, for letting the demon glut herself in public like that…

Edwin says nothing for a time, then smiles and laughs. “Well, I wanted to watch a duel with you. I daresay we both got more than we bargained for! And Izzy… You were amazing.”

Edwin places an arm around you, and you lean into the embrace, relief washing over you. It seems, for now, you’ve managed to spin this possible disaster into an unequivocal victory, like gold from dragon-shit.

What next?
>To the Clam ‘N Kettle—enough distractions!
>To the docks, but go for a little stroll to chat with Edwin and decompress before the meeting—your heart is still going a mile a minute
>Find somewhere to change into less singed clothing [which outfit?]
>Have some fun with Edwin along the way—the whole situation genuinely got you exhilarated with (blood)lust
>Take a bump of shirin, for focus
>Write-in
>>
>>4922464
>To the docks, but go for a little stroll to chat with Edwin and decompress before the meeting—your heart is still going a mile a minute

whew
good thing we got that 20
>>
>>4922462
[Ugh, still waking up. Typo correction rundown:

>Irinnile’s affected ditziness
>leaving your clothing lightly singed
>new wellspring of power allowing her to psychically influence so many bystanders

Let me know if anything else needs further clarifying. Spellchecking my own work without a long gap between writing and re-reading ti has always been a weakness of mine.]
>>
>>4922464
>To the docks, but go for a little stroll to chat with Edwin and decompress before the meeting—your heart is still going a mile a minute

Ok, you really outdone yourself with the clean up Irinnile, I'll admit that. But we're on Thot patrol until we can feed the WANT in relative secrecy and security. With that said...

>Have some fun with Edwin along the way—the whole situation genuinely got you exhilarated with (blood)lust

We gotta reward our boy toy for being such a good sport about that debacle. Call it making up for a being a spoilsport during the magical part of the date.

>>4922484
Yea, I feel you. I can't count how many times I missed my own spelling or grammatical errors.
>>
>>4922464
>To the docks, but go for a little stroll to chat with Edwin and decompress before the meeting—your heart is still going a mile a minute
Look for a place to let the demon out, since she's apparently allowed to fuck us over one more time.
>Have some fun with Edwin along the way—
As a wise anon once said, handy.
>Find somewhere to change into less singed clothing
I'm gonna need a full list of Ismena's clothing as well as the clothes-carrying mechanics. I have absolutely no idea what is in the wardrobe and [which outfit] suggests that we apparently have everything around this time?

>>4922587
Hypothetically speaking, do you think that using a Serpent Priest's divine staff as a sex toy would be a huge deal?
>>
>>4922784
Very naughty, Irinnile. That depends on if using the Serpent Priest staff as a dildo counts as heresy to the Dark Gods or not. If we get a dream from our Gods about it, we'll know more about their stance on it then.
>>
>>4922464
>Take a bump of shirin, for focus
>>
>>4922784
>clothes-carrying mechanics
[You can have effectively anything on you except the leafweave armour, which cannot be folded up to the extent that all its pieces would fit in your backpack.]
>>
[Bit of a rough night, may post before bed or wait until tomorrow morning. Cheers!]
>>
>>4923288
Sorry to hear about the rough night mate.
>>
>>4922784
>>4923109
We should put on our most formal attire before joining Fynn and Cuggi.
Can we just do it from the carriage?

I still need the list of clothes we have, sorry.

>>4923288
Sleep well QM.
>>
>>4923386
Oohh, Edwin's getting quite the show! First a mage duel, then a strip tease. What a lucky guy!
>>
>>4923398
Not exactly what I meant. Just thought it would be weird for Ismena to care about changing in public, considering her job and overall behavior.
And it's not like Edwin didn't see her completely naked several times.
>>
>>4923572
I know. 'Tis a joke, and an unintentional reward.
>>
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>>4922472
>>4922484
>>4922587
>>4922784
>>4923061
You request a bit of a stroll around the socks before the business lunch at the Clam ‘N Kettle, which Edwin is happy enough to oblige. You're still too abuzz with the energy within you—Wendy’s energy—and with the thrill of victory. You need to burn off this feeling, and to cool down.

You also can’t help but notice that the light singeing and soot along the top of your dress, and you know Fynn and Cuggi will as well. Intent to dress for success, you begin to strip down in the back of the carriage. This elicits an immediate flush from Edwin, who stops you.

“Woah there! The, uhh, driver can see through that narrow slot at the top.”

Edwin points it out, stymieing your plan for an efficient change into more meeting-appropriate attire. Well, the carriage is a little cramped for that, anyway, you suppose…

A wicked smile spreads across your face, though, as you do some quick visual logistics analyses in your head.

“Sso he can ssee us through the sslot at the top of that wall there?” you ask innocently.

“Yes, so changing here might be—WOAH!”

“Sso he can’t see much lower than our sstomachss, even if he were to really crane hiss neck, correct?”

“Izzy, what are you… Nngh… Doing?”

“Rewarding you for being ssuch a good ssport about the Initiatess’ Village,” you murmur into his ear, working him with your hand.

You get no further protests.

<WANT: 13>

By the time you arrive at the docks, both you and Edwin are a little more relaxed, while Irinnile is drooling and gnashing her teeth somewhere deep inside. Even after draining Wendy the Wizardling, she still wants a taste of Edwn; after seeing exactly what she DID to Wendy, you have your misgivings about allowing such access.

The docks provide a welcome distraction from your succubus-heightened libido. There are many a magnificent vessel suitable for a high-seas adventure, and great freighters for carrying flotillas of Hawksong wares away to unknown ports, and back from those foreign lands. However, what captivates you is the ocean itself.

You marvel at the vast swathe of blue beneath an open sky, alight with flecks of shattered sunlight in the brightness of day. The last time you were in this area, it was well after dark, and you were busy. You had a theoretical, textbook understanding of the size of these great bodies of water which so dominate the surface of the planet you were born beneath, but to see it in-person, in the light of day…

You’ve never seen anything like it.

How does it make you feel?
>Small and insignificant
>Free and jubilant for this opportunity
>Like you want to explore the world
>Furious, that the mammals took this away from your people
>Write-in
>>
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>>4923683

Eventually, you find a sort of makeshift outhouse. It smells of crab, and to your great disgust it seems to drop the waste of its primitive surface-dweller defecators directly into the wondrous and pristine expanse of the local bay to sink or float at their diet’s leisure. Still, it’s a good place to change.

What do you wear to the lunch meeting?
>Your simple green peasant dress
>Your simple brown peasant dress
>The tunic and skirt you were initially assigned
>Your Kamunu attire
>A fluffy jacket—the sea is a bit chilly when it gets late
>Your green velvet eveningwear, complete with gloves, earrings, necklace, and armlet
>Keep wearing what you’re wearing—none of these seem appropriate after all
>See if Irinnile can metamorphize something special with her shapeshifting [4d20, DC 15]
>Write-in
>>
>>4923683
>Free and jubilant for this opportunity
>Like you want to explore the world

A tinge of fury, but far outweighed by the wonderlust of a new experience!

>>4923686
>See if Irinnile can metamorphize something special with her shapeshifting [4d20, DC 15]

As foolhardy as it may seem, I wanna give it a shot. Keep in mind, this is entirely because I have no fashion sense in rl and am at a loss at what would be appropriate or fitting, so I’m not too picky about this choice, whatever wins.
>>
>>4923683
>Excited, like you want to explore the world
but also
>Furious, that the mammals took this away from your people
Ismena and other reptilians are kept from seeing wonders of the surface world their entire lives and she is INSANELY lucky to be one walking free and experiencing all this. It's gotta be infuriating.

>>4923686
>A fluffy jacket—the sea is a bit chilly when it gets late
We can make it work.

>>4923703
Even though I'd fucking love for Ismena to get a proper demonic business attire, I don't want to screw this up. We need to get to that meeting without issues, getting late or not showing up at all is a no-no.
>>
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>>4923726
Yea, I don't mind just doing the jacket instead. Like I said, I'm not really picky when it comes to fashion.

Demonic business attire you say?
>>
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>>4923953
Sorry for being very unfun today, but I called it demonic because of the origin, not style.
I was thinking of something like this.
>>
>>4924154
No problem, we all get those days mate.

Now that does look like our style!
>>
>>4923686
>Free and jubilant for this opportunity
>Furious, that the mammals took this away from your people

>>4923686
>>Your green velvet eveningwear, complete with gloves, earrings, necklace, and armlet
>>
>>4923686
>Small and insignificant
>See if Irinnile can metamorphize something special with her shapeshifting [4d20, DC 15]
>>
Rolled 17, 3, 6, 2 = 28 (4d20)

>>4924449
>>4924387
>>4923726
>>4923703
>free, jubilant, and like you wish to explore this world, but also furious at the mammals for taking this opportunity from your people
>Irinnile-skin suit
>>
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>>4924613
As you fumble about with your clothing in what passes for a restroom on the docks, you cannot help but fume. As awe-inspiring a sight as the ocean is, beholding its expansive majesty just makes you think about how massive, how wonderful, the surface world is…

While you, and so many hatchling like you, spent your childhood in a cramped, lightness cave, subsisting on fungus and vermin, scarcely able to even IMAGINE beauty and opportunity like this. Whatever Irinnile says, you truly owe the Dark Gods and their Serpent Priests the world, in an almost literal sense. Without them, where would one such as you be?

Suddenly, all your attire seems insubstantial, inappropriate for purpose. You need to succeed, to wow your soon-to-be business partners. The eveningwear is too much; everything else it too little.

‘Irinnile,’ you summon.

‘Yeah, Li—’ Irinnile hesitates. ‘Yeah, Infiltrator?’

Perhaps she does really feel bad about earlier… Or took your threats more seriously than you let on. Either way, the deference I appreciated.

‘Can you shapeshift clothing?’

‘Uhh, I don't know if you've noticed, but clothes don't exactly mesh with my whole deal.’

‘Come now,’ you counter, ‘nobody has ever requested a succubus in lingerie?’

She laughs. ‘ Weeell… Somehow doubt that's what you wanna’ wear to your big important lunch.’

‘Obviously not, but the same basic principle should apply, yes?’

‘Hm…, the demon muses. ‘Well, I'll give it a go. Now get that sweet ass naked for me, sugar!’

Well, the respect was nice while it lasted. With a sigh, you slip out of the rest of your current attire, leaving yourself naked in the outhouse. You feel no discomfort at the nudity--you're more used to such exposure than ever by this point—but you have some trepidation at allowing Irinnile control over your body again. You cannot afford to be late for this meeting, let alone miss it.

>17

Luckily, your will and your vision are strong… And, for her part, you sense little to none of Irinnile's usual willfulness. You close your eyes to focus your energies and intentions, and when you oorn them, you are clothed—or rather, transformed! You wear a form-hugging red dress, elegant black leather shoes with talon-like heels, and netted leggings that almost resemble the equipment of the fishing vessels around you.

‘So, you like?’ the succubus asks smugly, already knowing the answer.

“Jusst our sstyle,” you admit aloud.

‘Wait until you see it in the light,’ Irinnile teases. ‘Just don't try to take it off—this is technically our skin.’
>>
>>4924688
You pack up your other attire, and step out of the outhouse. To your surprise, the dress has a slight pearlescent pearlescence it, and as it reflects the sunlight, it reveals a subtle scale pattern across its ‘fabric’.

“Wow!” Edwin says, staring at you as you do a little twirl, surveying your own body with some of the same astonishment. “Where and when did you get THAT?”

“I’m full of ssurprissesss,” you tell him.

<WANT: 14>


Before too long, you and Edwin arrive at the Clam ‘N kettle in style. It’s a shame you can’t say the same for the venue. The Clam ‘N Kettle isn’t exactly a dive, but the dockside diner is more of a pub. Its denizens are a mix of the seasonally-rich and the perpetually adrift poor—sailors, labourers, global traders, and fishermen who would be homeless vagabonds but for their boats. You attract some attention, and a few provocative whistles, as you enter. Edwin shoots the men responsible a glare, but makes no other move to intervene save tugging you along to a table by the hand with some urgency. You resist the urge to snicker at his jealousy.

What do you do?
>Order a drink to mellow out
>Do some shirin—it’s what the meeting is about
>Tease Edwin a little
>Turn on your glamour, to set a still better first impression when the others arrive
>Write-in
>>
>>4924692
And, while I didn't list it as an option, just staying mellow and having a water is an option, too ;)
>>
>>4924692
>Tease Edwin a little
We can mellow out for free
Also I suppose we don’t need to seal Irinnile in a chastity belt for all eternity
>>
>>4924692
>Tease Edwin a little
>Turn on your glamour, to set a still better first impression when the others arrive

Implying we wouldn't get some water and mellow out the old fashioned way...
>>
>>4924692
>Do some shirin—it’s what the meeting is about
>>
>>4924692
>>Tease Edwin a little
>>
Rolled 10, 13, 20, 2, 14 = 59 (5d20)

>>4924934
>>4924930
>>4924869
>>4924826
“You know,” you muse, leaning forward ever so slightly to draw Edwin’s eye to your Irinnile-enhanced assets, further accentuated by the new dress, “I think I like thiss new sside of you, Misster Engel.”

“What new side?” Edwin asks. You can’t tell whether he’s playing dumb or is genuinely oblivious.

“Jealouss, adventurouss,” you elaborate. “Dominant.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he huffs, averting his gaze and trying not to fidget or blush.

“You know what would really show those ssycophantic ssailorsss what for?” you ask.

Edwin glances your way, gaze questioning. You choose this moment to weave your glamour as subtly as you can, making somatic gestures beneath the table and focusing on your presence. You lean over, and with a bite to his earlobe, you whisper:

“If you did with this table what you did with the breakfast table this morning.”

When the tavern’s server arrives, she finds a gangly, tall man in a silly rumpled wizard cap and his legs crossed awkwardly and his face practically ablaze, sitting next to a no-doubt stunning beauty of a business-woman.

“Anything I can get for the two of you?” she asks, eyes flitting back and forth.

“A-a beer, if you please,” Edwin stammers slightly, voice strained. He coughs as if to clear his throat.

“And a water for me,” you add with a bright and satisfied smile.

She leaves, and Edwin glares at you, but you can tell the flirtation has put him at ease; his prickly aura has settled.

[DC 16 for subtlety]
>>
>>4924959
Not much later, Edwin’s father Fynn arrives. He is dressed less professionally than he did for the one other business meeting you’ve attended with him. You suppress a frown, wondering what this indicates for the seriousness with which he views your proposition, or your other possible partner.

“Father,” Edwin says, by now calmed down from your egging-on, “Come, sit down! We just got here.”

“Nonsense, I’m surely late” Fynn says, “You’re half-way through your beer.”

You’d hardly noticed if he’s right. You have hours yet before your other job.

“My apologies to you both,” Fynn says as he begins to take off his coat, though he stops to look you up and down. “Ismena, you look…”

You sense a flare of lustful desire from Edwin’s father, as well as genuine awe. You aren’t sure if it’s the glut of energy from Irinnile’s feeding, or the sympathetic resonance between your own magical aptitudes and the succubus’ specialty, but your glamour has clearly had an affect. You simply smile and nod, accepting the unfinished compliment.

“You’ve gone a bit more cassual,” you note. “It ssuitss you.”

Cuggi hasn’t arrived yet, you note. You suppose for a nomadic trader, punctuality isn’t a priority. Edwin and his father hardly notice; you have them enthralled, relating simple anecdotes to guffaws. Both Engel men quickly power through another beer.

What do you do?
>Keep feeding them alcohol; it will make negotiations easier if their inhibitions are lowered
>Pass out some shirin to them both, to get them in the right frame of mind
>Dial down the aura and order three waters; you want them focused on business
>Send out a psychic probe to see if you can detect the catmen nearby [4d20, +1 WANT]
>Write-in
>>
>>4924966
>Dial down the aura and order three waters; you want them focused on business
We shouldn't let Fynn get screwed over by the cat. Cuggi won't pass up an opportunity to exploit his drunkenness and we don't exactly have all the business knowledge that papa Engel does.
As for Edwin, we still have a few hours to spend together, so it's better to keep him in shape.

We gotta limit using Irinnile's skills. That WANT +1 +1 +1 is not helping. Shapeshifting back to normal Ismena will cost another point.
>>
>>4924966
>Dial down the aura and order three waters; you want them focused on business

Don’t want them totally inebriated whet the fat cat comes around.

>>4925158
I agree, but I think it may be a smart play just before we leave to go to the bathroom and satisfy some of our WANT while the DC is still relatively low on our end. I don’t want to lose control just because Irinnile decides she want a snack while we’re working.
>>
>>4925197
We gotta shapeshift first before satisfying anything.
And chances are Irinnile will nearly kill another person... unless she learned to get herself together, in which case I imagine it'll only give her a small relief.

Unrelated idea: let's ask whether she can transform the staff into a ring (something portable) without destroying and/or altering its original properties. She can create items based solely on a person's dreams, after all.
Not sure what the staff does, but having Dark Gods' artifact around at all times and not having to hide a creepy, stolen staff from mammals would certain help us.
>>
>>4924966
>pass out some shirin
>>
>>4925360
>>4925197
>>4925158
You will your aura to recede into your, like dampening a campfire, and you flag down the serving-girl—who has also been repeatedly glancing your way ever since her exposure to the glamour earlier—to bring your table three waters. You want a fair and equitable discussion between your business associates. You don’t think Fynn is likely to enable your enterprise’s future success if he feels Cuggi took advantage of his drunkenness.

“Sso,” you ask, all business now, “did you get a chancce to ssample the waressss?”

Fynn hesitates, but nods slightly. “It made focusing on paperwork somewhat difficult,” he notes, by way of ambivalent understatement.

You smirk a little at the mental image, and nod. “And?”

“It was… Quite nice, otherwise. Physical energy and focus on physical activities seemed amplified. I would like to discuss suggested dosages with your suppliers.”

You feel a thrill of excitement. “Sso you’re interessted?’

Fynn commits nothing, but you see a slight smile form around his eyes, even if it never reaches his mouth. He’s interested.

“We can discuss this thing and more,” says Cuggi from the doorway, his harsh and gravelly voice carrying over the cacophony.

The cat-man approaches, one of his dark yellow-brown human associates approaching with him, as well as a second cat-man who you think you recognize from prior discourses as a top lieutenant of the Eastern Standard Silk & Spice Company. If the Engelson Storehouse patriarch has dressed down, these males have all dressed up, adorned in some of their finest silks as if to show off their goods. The trio draw some glower and grumbles form a few of the other patrons, though many more seem indifferent to their presence. Your crowded table becomes a focal point of attention for a second time this evening, as many people whisper at the peculiar meeting.

Your glamour captivates the three fellow foreigners to Hawksong, each of whom is quite compelled to give you a long look and, consequently, to offer their compliments. You feel Edwin’s aura shift again in your periphery, and you give his arm a reassuring squeeze. The last thing you need is your presence and your glamour to sabotage your own meeting!

There is a requisite period of small-talk, and then Fynn of Engel leans in and attempts to se the topic to business at hand—to recommended dosages, quantities, wholesale and retail costing propositions, delivery schedules, reliability of supply chains, and more. Cuggi and his screw are cagey, almost skittish. The superficial sensation of their emotional energy is that of unease and guardedness, and they seem more keen to dance around these hard-and-fast figures, as if the directness puts them off.
>>
>>4925382
Do the Eastern Standard mammals doubt their ability to reliably supply the product on a set schedule and at a fixed price? Is Fynn of Engel’s northwestern negotiation style too blunt for them? Or is there something else that has made them uneasy—the mutterings of other patrons, something to do with their lateness?

What do you do?
>Take over the discussion, and use your politesse and glamour as necessary to manipulate the males not an agreement
>Order some drinks for the table to loosen up the Eastern Standard contingent
>Probe Cuggi’s mind with Irinnile’s powers to directly root out the source of his concern and the answers to Fynn’s questions [4d20, DC 15, WANT +1]
>Suggest taking the meeting to somewhere less public, in the hopes it will put everyone a ease
>Write-in
>>
>>4924966
>Send out a psychic probe to see if you can detect the catmen nearby [4d20, +1 WANT]
>>
>>4925384
>Probe Cuggi’s mind with Irinnile’s powers to directly root out the source of his concern and the answers to Fynn’s questions [4d20, DC 15, WANT +1]
>>
>>4925384
>Probe Cuggi’s mind with Irinnile’s powers to directly root out the source of his concern and the answers to Fynn’s questions [4d20, DC 15, WANT +1]
>Join the discussion to try and loosen up the atmosphere a little
The WANT can bite us in the ass later, but doing this has potential to uncover foundational information about all our dealings with Cuggi so it's worth the hassle.
Khajiit better be innocent of all crime.

If we determine that cats are just anxious about this being in public, then:
>Suggest taking the meeting to somewhere less public, in the hopes it will put everyone a ease
>>
>>4925384
>>Probe Cuggi’s mind with Irinnile’s powers to directly root out the source of his concern and the answers to Fynn’s questions [4d20, DC 15, WANT +1]
>>
Rolled 1, 15, 6, 7 = 29 (4d20)

>>4925868
>>4925457
>>4925424
Posting soon!
>>
>>4925384
>Take over the discussion, and use your politesse and glamour as necessary to manipulate the males not an agreement
>Order some drinks for the table to loosen up the Eastern Standard contingent

I mean, we could try the old fashion way.

>>4925243
Irinnile has the power to create objects, but to transform pre-existing magical objects? And I don't know if messing with the staff in any way is heresy, or would cause unintentional magical side effects. We should test the staff out first before we start messing around with it.
>>
>>4926048
Well, I'm glad that did well.
>>
>>4926048
Confident in your mastery of the new, more docile Irinnile, you send a psychic missive to your unholy tenant.

‘So about that staff you’ve been dwelling on—’ she begins

‘Later,’ you interrupt. ‘Probe the cat-man’s mind. I wish to know the source of his anxiety.’

‘Sure thing, boss,’ she says cheerily, clearly happy that you’re so quick to trust her again.

<WANT: 15>

Irrinile slips from you like a shadow, invisibly entering into the crevices of Cuggi’s own mind. She extends claws of curiosity into his recesses, lifting up his outward expressions to explore the motives and memories which underlay them. All of this is privy to you, as well. You notice that when she shapes your body, and especially when her <WANT> begins to grow, your sensations and her own are closer than ever, so that you almost share them. Unnervingly, her attitudes and intentions feel uncomfortably personal, as well. You get the feeling that only your years of religious teaching and studious mental preparation allow you to retain your own individual will.

Irinnile returns before long, with Cuggi seemingly none-the-wiser. She comes bearing gifts from her travels: samples of emotion, snippets of sense-memory. Cuggi and his men are indeed wary of the other patrons, and of you, but not without reason. It seems that the distinction between a well-to-do nouveau riche Hawksong merchant and an old-money noble is of little meaning to the felid, and he has of course had bad experiences with the former. The mre concrete your ties to local human high society become, the more you have come to remind him of Lady Zivic.

Irinnile guffaws at the idea of the cat-man associating you with the old occultist. ‘If he only knew you even bonded with a demon just like that old had, huh?’

You do not respond, partly because the memories aren’t done. Cuggi’s men feel they’ve been followed and spied upon in their travels today, too. Cuggi himself has not seen or heard anything, but the others worry that you may be making effort to surveil or intimidate them.

All thre are armed. But then, in more ways than one, so are you.

What do you do?
>Use their unease to your advantage; apply pressure to extract concessions
>Put them at ease by being as welcoming as possible
>Offer to take this whole affair somewhere less public
>Catch them off-guard; ask if they have been followed, and make it clear that their enemies are your enemies
>Focus on Fynn; if you can get him to mellow out and offer some concessions of his own, the deal may be more likely
>Write-in

>>4926054
>>4926055
[Was very close to a crit-fail, but that 15 saved you all!]

Sorry for the delay in posting--cat had diarrhea on my bed, presumably in solidarity with Cuggi
>>
>>4926136
>Use their unease to your advantage

Thanks mystery stalkers
>>
>>4926136
>Offer to take this whole affair somewhere less public
Ask nicely, though. Don't want them thinking that we wanna shiv them in the backroom.
>Put them at ease by being as welcoming as possible
>Try to encourage Cuggi's companions to mention their unease and speak of being followed
During friendly conversation and let's try not to irritate them.
We gotta inform Fynn about our findings later, he should know.

What's the name of your bed destroyer?
>>
>>4926136
>Catch them off-guard; ask if they have been followed, and make it clear that their enemies are your enemies
>>
>>4926443
Yea, don’t know the right option here, so I’m just going to support this one.

+1
>>
Awaiting a tie-breaker, or else I'll roll for it when I get home.

>>4926443
Bella, but if she didn't already have a name when I got her, Potato
>>
>>4926695
Pls notice me Sempai
>>
>>4926136
>Offer to take this whole affair somewhere less public
>Catch them off-guard; ask if they have been followed

Move somewhere more private and then let them know that we know they have enemies in this city - but we want to be friends
>>
Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>4926694
>>4926707
>>4926443
>>4926287
>>
>>4926714
“If you may forgive the interruption,” you interject into a somewhat repetitive back-and-forth about the seasonality of the plants sued to produce the product versus the need for consistent, predictable delivery schedules, “I can’t help but notice that our guesstss to thiss fine ccity are getting a fair amount of… Unwelcome attitude.”

“What?” Fynn seems taken aback. “I’ve been nothing but—!”

You incline your head towards some of the surlier sailors and navigators in the pub.

“Ah, yes,” he acknowledges.

“Perhapss we could take thiss ssomewhere lesss public?” you suggest, looking to the beast-man and his contingent sympathetically. “Honesstly, the atmosphere puts me off as well.”

“We could head to the manor?” Edwin suggests. Fynn shoots him a glare.

“A manor?” Cuggi’s human advisor asks with surprise you sense to be feigned. “A man with a manor surely doesn’t need to haggle quite so hard as you have been, my friend, surely?”

Fynn smiles through gritted teeth. “I didn’t get my manor by being a frivolous spendthrift, good sirs.”

Edwin shrinks a little, insofar as the tall man can shrink, under his father’s withering glare, but the lot of you find yourselves in agreement: it is a good time to depart. As you all leave the pub, you play the role of hostess, making nice with the Eastern Standard contingent and putting them at ease. However, as the conversation turns more friendly, you see an opportunity. You make a show of glancing behind you periodically.

“Izzy?” Edwin asks. “is everything alright?”

Cuggi and his allies glance at each other, the cat-men’s tails flitting with irrepressible nervousness at the familiarity of concern.

“Do you believe we are followed?” Cuggi asks, keeping his tone calm and neutral.

In truth, you did not… Until now. It had been a tactic to make the Eastern Standard males speak their peace about their own concerns. However, from among the various roustabouts and travelers around the piers, you sense a presence, a focus, and an intent… All of which are directed at your group. You don’t sense many, or great hostility, but then your succubus senses are also new to you…

What do you do?
>Run, and call to the others to do so to—maybe you can lose them
>Stand your ground and confront your follower directly
>Suggest a different location than the Engel manor [A storehouse? The Eastern Standard tents? The Pretty Kitty? Somewhere else?]
>Just play it cool and stick to the original plan
>Write-in
>>
>>4926716
>Suggest a different location than the Engel manor [A storehouse]

Seems like the least likely to screw us over if they do turn out to br less than friendly. Maybe we can lure them in and hide ourselves with our illusions to see who would go to all this trouble to follow us.
>>
>>4926716
>Suggest a different location than the Engel manor [The Eastern Standard tents]
We need a place which is the least related to us. Their own tents are the closest safe place, so it's a win-win.
>Cast illusion to make the group appear more charismatic
Surely our emotional illusion can make people appear mightier to make potential enemies reconsider their actions? This should work especially well with 5 males.
>>
[If the tie isn't broken by the time I'm ready to hit the hay, I'll roll and post.]
>>
>>4926935
Supporting
>>
>>4926716
>Suggest a different location than the Engel manor [The Eastern Standard tents]
>Cast illusion to make the group appear more charismatic
>>
[And I was just about to post, too! well, the tie's back. Going to walk the dog, and I'll post before bed one way or another. Someone: break that tie!]
>>
>>4927569
I'm not really willing to mix our two lifestyles together enough to bring our boy toy to our former venue, even if I think Edwin may be enamored with Foxy's magical abilities and Foxy will keep things civil enough.

I am willing to let the boys go ahead and illusion ourselves in the attempt to see who is trailing us.
>>
>>4927569
I'll break the tie. Switching to
>>4926935
>>
Rolled 7, 17, 14, 3, 14 = 55 (5d20)

>>4927601
>>4927496
>>4926961
>>4926935
[4 for magic, 1 for ???]
>>
>>4927608
“Ssincce we’re sspeaking on matterss of businesss, perhapss it might make ssensse to ssurvey the sstorehousse where the merchandise would be kept?” you suggest with practiced calm.

‘You know,’ irinnile says, ‘I could do something about that accent, Lispy.’

You ignore the succubus. The males take your meaning—or, at least, the Eastern Standard ones do. Fynn is focused on business, Edwin concerned but oblivious as is his custom.

“Yes, yes,” Fynn agrees. “It’s our bread and butter, Mister Cuggi. You’ll soon see why it is that small and infrequent deliveries are not what Engelson is interested in.”

Cuggi’s men keep hands on their belts, ready to extract concealed daggers You move your hand to do the same, but another thought strikes: why not make your mammalian companions more imposing through a glamour? Surely that will stave off a creeping coward?

‘Babe, you know I can inspire fornication AND fear, right?’

You ignore the demon’s suggestion, weaving your hands in a slow and sinuous motion to focus yourself. You suck in your stomach slightly, lift your chin, and walk with purpose, envisaging every footfall a cobblestone-crushing tread as if you marched amongst a contingent of dread warriors on campaign.

It’s tough to tell what effect it has from within the glamour itself, but when you permit the succubus’ probing energy to slip out into the alleyways behind you, you find nothing amiss. You take this for success.

The six of you slip into a storehouse bearing the seabird-and-square emblem of the Engels’ enterprise. Fynn removes a keyring from his cloak and slips it inside, unlocking it. Instantly, two hired swords jump to attention—a pair of strapping half-orcs—but Fynn quickly dismisses them to stand guard outside and shuts the door to afford the lot of you privacy.

The males of Eastern Standard survey this dockside warehouse. If they are like you, they must find it rather mundane, albeit spacious and fairly well-maintained for a large shack subject to waterside weather and to the merciless salinity of the sea. Fynn of Engel seems proud of it, though, or rather of its guards and its contents: barrels of imported ale, brined foodstuffs, and indeed SPICES—the Eastern Standard’s major moneymaker, here in droves already without their contribution.
>>
>>4927643
“So you see,” Fynn concludes with a wide gesture, “I have my share of spice companies to trade with. And your ‘shirin’ is an interesting one… But if I’m to allocated storage, sign a contract to supply it, hire sellers of the spice in question… Well, you will need to come to this party as well.”

Cuggi’s ear flatten slightly, rankling at the ostentatious display of relative mercantile power. Still, you can sense that he and both his allies are at ease compared to the tension on the walk, now guarded and sheltered from ambush. Even without Irinnile’s sense you could determine such, for their hands shift from their hidden blades. You wonder with some amusement if either Engel man ever noticed the change, or understood that they are the only ones unarmed in this meeting.

“I understand what you say,” Cuggi acknowledges in his low growl, face as always a mask of his emotions. “Still, I must say the same. The shirin comes seasonally, in amounts dependent on the length and quality of the season. I am the only buyer and transporter you have access to, but not the only ne in the eastern lands who IS a buyer. There are others, who sometimes buy first, or pay more. Sometimes the price goes up. Sometimes supply is high, price low. Shirin is… Fickle.”

“I prefer reliable suppliers, and reliable margins,” Fynn frowns.

You look back from your psychic and visual scan of the perimeter with a sigh. It’s a familiar back and forth, the two traders dancing around each other. It seems you may need to intercede if you want this to go anywhere.

What do you propose?
>Offer to handle the retail end of things without direct compensation, selling it personally or recruiting people to do so
>Propose keeping it in storage and selling it in small allotments of a time, to ration it out—prestige and consistency at the expense of smaller sales numbers and slow expansion
>Ask for more details of shirin’s creation—perhaps it can be ‘stretched’ with some local herb or drug?
>Threaten to seek out other traders with access, or the eastern producers themselves, and to cut Cuggi out if he can’t keep pricing competive
>Appeal to the Engels to make some concessions—surely people will pay whatever you ask for such a goodly product?
>Write-in
>>
>>4927644
>Propose keeping it in storage and selling it in small allotments of a time, to ration it out—prestige and consistency at the expense of smaller sales numbers and slow expansion
>Ask for more details of shirin’s creation—perhaps it can be ‘stretched’ with some local herb or drug?

We could ‘cut it’ with other things too…
>>
>>4927644
>Propose keeping it in storage and selling it in small allotments of a time, to ration it out—prestige and consistency at the expense of smaller sales numbers and slow expansion
>Ask for more details of shirin’s creation—perhaps it can be ‘stretched’ with some local herb or drug?
>>
>>4927644
>Propose keeping it in storage and selling it in small allotments of a time, to ration it out—prestige and consistency at the expense of smaller sales numbers and slow expansion
>Ask for more details of shirin’s creation—perhaps it can be ‘stretched’ with some local herb or drug?
>>
>>4927969
>>4927799
>>4927773
“We’re sselling a foreign luxxxury good,” you reassure Fynn. “We can afford to charge a little exxxtra, under ssuch ccircumsstancess, yess?”

“Maybe, but we’d need to create the prestige and demand for it, first,” Fynn grumbles. “It will lock out the less-wealthy, as well.”

You smile. That works well for your original intent, anyway: to sell this substance to Hawksong’s social elite. However, Fynn is right: it will be hard to do so if hardly anyone ahs experienced the drug’s high… And so you turn back to Suggi.

“Can we sstretch our ssupply with anything more… Local? Ssoemthing with similar effects?”

Cuggi’s cat-faced ally wrinkles his nose in distaste, but Cuggi himself is more flexible. His tail moves in great swings with a sort of excitement at the idea. “It is a plant material, yes… The broad leaves of a small mountain herb, blended with the ground roots of another, one with spicy fruits.”

“What are their names?” Fynn asks eagerly.

“I do not know them in the local tongue,” Cuggi says, shrugging. “I do not even know if anything similar grows here.”

“How about in the Eastern Common Tongue?” Edwin asks, drawing stares from all quarters. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while.

Cuggi narrows his eyes and says something in a language unknown to you… And Edwin replies, albeit hesitantly. The males of Eastern Standard all seem taken aback, as does Edwin’s father.

‘His accent’s not the greatest,’ Irinnile critiques. ‘But I guess all that book-learning did our boy some good!’

‘You understand him?’ you ask.

‘Well duh,’ the demon replies. ‘What, did you think I only get summoned in places that speak Northmouth or whatever?’

It seems you might have a translator abord your vessel, as well. Of more immediate importance, it seems that between a few gestures, descriptions, and a bit of back-and-forth in this eastern language, Edwin has a good idea of what sort of plants you are looking for.

With this breaking of the ice, and your own careful diplomacy, you are able to facilitate a handshake deal between Fynn of Engel and Cuggi. Engelson Storehouse Company is now Hawksong’s sole distributor of shririn! The first shipment—what’s left for the shirin purchased for the personal sue of the Eastern Standard traders—is to be picked up by some Engelson security guards tomorrow.

“A pleasure doing business with you,” Fynn says perfunctorily, offering his hand.

“Yes,” Cuggi simply replies, bowing low, but evading the handshake.

Both males eye each other uncertainly, and they step outside.
>>
>>4928069
By this time, the sun Is low in the sky, and your other job, as Kamunu of The Pretty Kitty lounge, beckons. Luckily, Edwin is offering you a carriage ride—you still have ample time, rather than needing to rush through the city on foot!

What do you do?
>Talk about something with Fynn before you depart [what?]
>Speak with Cuggi and his men before you leave [about what?]
>Try to score another pouch of shirin for personal use or to offer as a sample
>Ask to travel on foot anyway; you want to go hunting for whoever was following you earlier
>Write-in
>>
>>4928071
>Talk about something with Fynn before you depart
Thank him for coming to this meeting and tell him to watch out on his way back home. Something or someone was observing us today, after all.
>Ask if he wants to hang out at TPK with Edwin?
>Speak with Cuggi and his men before you leave
Ask if they have any idea who might be onto them.
>Hop into the carriage with Edwin
>>
>>4928235
Backing this, but don’t ask Flynn to come along
>>
>>4928071
>Ask to travel on foot anyway; you want to go hunting for whoever was following you earlier
>Try to score another pouch of shirin for personal use or to offer as a sample
>>
>>4928693
>>4928515
>>4928235
Before you part ways, you take Fynn aside, reating a hand on his arm in gratitude.

“Thank you for approaching thiss meeting with ssuch an open mind,” you say.

“It has been… Potentially profitable,” he says, with a kind smile, the slightest hint of a wry twist at one corner. “But let me know what comes of this quest for a plant material to serve as filler, yes?”

You nod, and he squeezes your arm in turn.

“Travel carefully. I ssenssed a presencce following uss earlier, obsserving uss.”

“I didn't know that was among your abilities,” Fynn notes, with some surprise.

You wink. “A mage hass to have her ssecretss.”

Fynn nods, still appearing uncertain, and asks “You're not coming, ah, home then?”

“I'm afraid not—I have work at The Pretty Kitty.” You smirk. “You could come along?”

Fynn clears his throat. “No, no, that will be fine. I'll speak with you later, Ismena.”

You resist the urge to cackle. You don't need a succubus' senses to tell where his imagination has wandered.

You catch Cuggi and his company before they depart as well. They need no reminder to be cautious, so you do not offer one—you simply offer the same thanks. They bow slightly in rwapinse, and Cuggi adds his two copper pieces.

“A curious business partner, that one,” he says.

“The father, or the son?” you ask.

“Yes,” you replies simply.

You smile at the quip, but his opinion on your chosen partners—or patsies—is not why you waylaid him.

“Do you know who wass following uss?” you ask. “Do you have any inkling?”

None of the foreign males have any idea, though the other cat-man notes that he detected a smell like human filth on the air. Wererats, then? Or perhaps just the outhouses, dumping that same malodorous cocktail into the sea…

Well, your chariot awaits, and you don't have all evening. Accepting Edwin's hand, you hop into the carriage, and the driver spirits you away to the Red Lantern District, and to The Pretty Kitty.
>>
>>4928731

Once there, you draw another round of whistles, but this time from your appreciative coworkers. Your new ‘outfit’, grown by Irinnile, seems to be a hit. You make an effort to introduce Edwin, but between his visits before you started working at the lounge and his presence in your life nowadays, he needs little introduction. Attention is all on you and your new look. Under gentle peer pressure, you do a quick strut about the room, showing off the goods; even more than before you bonded with Irinnile, being admired physically FEELS good.

Mina, Cuggi's sister and local cat-headed proprietess of the establishment, gazes down in silent judgement from the top of the stairs.

“What do you think?” Felia, busty middle-aged middle-manager of the parlor asks, gesturing to you expectantly.

Mina's tail swisher back and forth—amusement, you think.

“You're dancing tonight,” she says, adding “It doesn't scream ‘Kamunu the Desert Princess.’”

What do you do?
>She's right—go shapeshift back and get changed into your regular work attire
>Tell Mina you're trying a different gimmick out
>If she wants a desert princess, she'll get one! Find a room and transform yourself into your perfected vision of Kamunu with Irinnile's power
>Write-in
[Keep in mind that shapeshifting increases <WANT> and may require a roll. If you do create a new outfit or go for a new gimmick, please elaborate upon what you're going for.]
>>
>>4928071
>Ask to travel on foot anyway
Counterespionage go
>>
>>4928734
>She’s right, go shapeshift back and get changed into your regular work clothes
>>
>>4928734
>She's right—go shapeshift back and get changed into your regular work attire
>>
File: Spoiler Image (61 KB, 1080x811)
61 KB
61 KB .jpg
Rolled 15, 16, 10, 17 = 58 (4d20)

>>4928860
>>4928853

[DC 15]
>>
>>4928961
“Yess, of coursse,” you say.

You excuse yourself, telling Edwin to go grab a seat and slipping away to the bathing room with a promise to meet the other girls on-stage. Finding the room in question empty as expected, and you turn your focus inward.

‘You know, I bet I could really spice up your Kamunu outfit, Lispy,’ Irinnile speculates.

‘Keep it simple,’ you instruct her. ‘Return my body to normal.’

‘Ugh, booooring.’

Irinnile whines, but with only a modicum of internal power struggle, you are able to curb her shapeshifting to your desired goals.

Do you keep the enlarged breasts and buttocks?
>Yes—you wear them well
>No—you want to be as you were before
>No, and in fact you shrink them slightly, self-conscious of your mammalian nature
>Write-in
>>
>>4928980
You think you’re really getting to grips with this ‘demonic possession’ business. Irinnile might still mock your accent and try to steer the ship towards sexuality, but she seemed contrite about your near-exposure earlier. Still, there are always dangers to carrying such a being within oneself…

<WANT: 16>

Like that pang of hunger and desire which grows ever stronger with each use of her power, building in your abdomen and making your thighs squirm against one another. Your mind is strong, though; you drive the desires and their infernal originator deep into the darkest pits of your soul, don your Kamunu outfit, and go to work.

Your return to the stage of The Pretty Kitty is heralded by whoops and hollers by those who have missed you—a great many of the regulars, as it turns out. You don’t headline, of course. Helga Warchest opens the evening with raucous, bouncy dwarven bombast, followed by Manuela LaPert’s brand of acrobatic, prancing fun, and then the twins Alicia and Tricia with their technically-choreographed subtle tease. It is only then that pink lights are dimmed and Mina welcomes you to the stage: the headliner! Laskar Endingray, the elven bard hidden up in the rafters, plays your familiar fanfare, and you take the stage to that great welcome; even the magically-tinged music itself carries notes of friendly familiarity and the comfortable rhythm of your unique bond.

Edwin, out in the crowd, seems less self-conscious and embarrassed than he had been last time he watched these other men drool over you. Perhaps it’s that he’s already had a few beers this evening. Perhaps it’s just tough to feel insecure after all the sexual attention you’ve been lavishing him with as of late. Either way, it’s a relief that really lets you cut lose and enjoy your ever-increasing mastery of the craft of exotic dance—something you’ve come to enjoy for its own sake, and not merely as a means to an end…

But with all the whistles, hollers, and hungry eyes, your own hunger grows like a bottomless bit, with Irinnile dwelling at its bottom.

‘Not to push my luck,’ she says, ‘but if you let me work a bit of my magic, and you work a bit of yours, I bet we could siphon some energy off of these schmucks all at once. Nobody passing our or, ya’ know, keeling over. Just a lot of happily-tired fans and us, all full of mana and not <WANT>ing so bad. Whaddaya’ say, hotstuff?’

>Finish the dance as normal
>Allow Irinnile to make this attempt [roll required]
>Wrap the dance up early; you aren’t so confident in your mastery of Irinnile that you’d risk a power-struggle in front of all these eyes
>Focus on Edwin to steady yourself [+affection, currently sitting at 92%, MYSTERY benefit/liability]
>Write-in
>>
>>4928980
>Yes—you wear them well

Why not? :^)

>>4928982
>Allow Irinnile to make this attempt [roll required]

I'm not sure if this is wise, but I'm willing to try. I want a glamor roll too, just in case something goes wrong that we need to fix.

If someone disagree, you can forget my vote and I'll support just finishing the dance as normal if this doesn't get another vote.
>>
>>4928982
Backing >>4929182
>>
File: Spoiler Image (1294 KB, 480x270)
1294 KB
1294 KB .gif
Rolled 6, 14, 4, 11, 13, 12, 11, 8, 16 = 95 (9d20)

>>4929182
[5d20 for seductive glamour, DC 15, 4d20 for Irinnile wrangling (DC 16) and energy drain (DC 17)]
>>
>>4929292
Well, at least we maintained control. But seriously, we have such shit luck when it comes to energy draining that it’s not even funny.
>>
>>4929242
>>4929182
>>4929292
‘Alright, but remember,’ you tell Irinnile, ‘don’t mess this up.’

Irinnile squeals in glee, as you—and Laskar’s music—begin to pick up the pace. You spin and twirl, weaving waves of silken rainbow light through the air light great ribbons. The crowd, and perhaps Edwin in particular, are enraptured. However, you know what they’re here to see—and what Irinnile feeds upon. You want their desire, not their more impersonal artistic appreciation. You run your hands, draped in this illusory light, up and down your body and you lower yourself into a squat and lean back, throwing your hair in a wide arc and setting your Kamunu attire’s coins to jingling and your new assets to bouncing.

The reaction is nothing to shake a stick at, but… Well, perhaps you overextended yourself. You feel your own reserves of energy waning even as the crowd’s desire swells and moves towards you like a tsunami of energy. Irinnile leaps towards it with a manic thirst; flashing back to her most brutal frenzy you suddenly lose confidence in your ability to control her in this state. Unable to maintain your glamour and to focus on controlling the demon at the same time, you drop the former and reach out to prevent Irinnile’s escape… But by the same token, you also pull aura back into its sealed space within you before she can grab much energy at all.

<WANT: 14>

‘Hey!’ the succubus cries. ‘What’s the big idea?!’

‘Easy girl,’ you reassure her. ‘Later.’

You feel less than reassured yourself, though. You are breathing hard, very nearly seating, and you feel dizzy and tired. Still, as you take your bow and slink off-stage, the crowd is still in an uproar. Kamunu’s return was a smash hit! Through the haze of an incoming migraine, you even hear Mina offer some words of praise.

“Izzy?”

Your eyes flutter open, and Edwin is in front of you, looking fantly concerned, but most just exhilarated.

“That was amazing!” he says. “You… YOU’RE amazing. The control you’ve developed in such a short time!”

“Iss THAT what impressed you?” you quip.

Edwin blushes only slightly, and chuckles. “Well… You know. Among other things.”

Another wave of exhaustion and desire hits you all at once at Edwin’s eyes flit across your body and you feel his lust at the edges of your periphery.

“Izzy, you look a little flushed,” Edwin says, placing a hand to your forehead. “Are you alright?”
>Ask to go home to the Engel Manor to rest, as you feel faint
>Drag Edwin into an unoccupied room to assuage some <WANT> and replenish your energies
>Tell Edwin to head home without you-you’re not feeling up to travel, and have business here
>Take some shirin for energy and focus
>Write-in
>>
>>4929304
>Tell Edwin to head home without you-you’re not feeling up to travel, and have business here

Yea, we’re feeding this bitch now even if it kills us. I don’t want to deal with Irinnile when she’s starving.
>>
>>4929304
>Tell Edwin to head home without you-you’re not feeling up to travel, and have business here
>Visit Mina, use Irinnile's powers to get inside her mind to try and find out what changed her behavior after the sewer raid

Let's use the demon last one time tonight and then unleash her in the docks, to hell with the WANT. Even better if we stumble upon the faggots who followed our Khajiit.

This is the second update I missed, where Irinnile the Idiot was unleashed and almost endangered us. Deeply concerning.
>>
>>4929304
>Ask to go home to the Engel Manor to rest, as you feel faint
>Take some shirin for energy and focus
>>
>>4929304
>Tell Edwin to head home without you-you’re not feeling up to travel, and have business here
>>
>>4929304
>Tell Edwin to head home without you-you’re not feeling up to travel, and have business here
>Take some shirin for energy and focus
>>
>>4929887
>>4929818
>>4929612
>>4929411
>>4929312
“I'm feeling a little exxhaussted,” you say, with some embarassment.

“Let'a head home, Edwin offers, offering you an arm.

You chuckle at the gesture, but shake your head. “I have ssome matterss to attend to here, I'm afraid. I'm jusst not sure I'll make it back to the manner until tomorrow.”

Edwin's face falls a bit, but he nods.

“It was a wonderful day, and I know yiu must have sidelined a lot of your, uh, professional goals and such to.make that happen for me,” he says. “Thank you, Izzy.”

You snile and begin to respond, but before you can, he has pulled you into his embrace and kissed you. You focus on reining in Irinnile, who is whooping loudly at the display. When he releases you and departs, you're stull a little dazed. How… uncharacteristically forward. You MUST be having an effect on the pointy-hatted Engelson heir.

‘You know your staff is still in the carriage, right?’ Irinnile asks, just a few moments after it has already rolled away.

You sigh. Oh well—that can wait until tomorrow. You have other business to attend to for now.

…What is it?
>Meet with Mina (and maybe probe her mind)
>Score some clients to help relieve your <WANT>
>Catch up with Laskar and the girls
>Go hunting for the scoundrels who were stalking Cuggi
>Skulk about in search of a magical item to steal which might help tame Irinnile
>Visit the fox-woman or Bianchi [specify which, or if it's both] for aid in managing your demon, or excising her
>Write-in

Also, just to clear it up…
>Ingest some shirin
>Don't ingest some shirin
>>
>>4930045
>Score some clients to help relieve your <WANT>
Make sure they’re not regulars - and don’t do the deed here. I’m afraid of killing them

>Ingest some shirin
Sure, why not
>>
>>4930045
>Score some clients to help relieve your <WANT>

It's getting high

>Go hunting for the scoundrels who were stalking Cuggi

got me curious
>>
>>4930070
>>4930161
+1, and

>Skulk about in search of a magical item to steal which might help tame Irinnile

I want something that'll help out.
>>
[Getting my second Covid shot rhis morning. There may be some delay.]
>>
Rolled 16, 2, 6, 16 = 40 (4d20)

>>4930636
>>4930161
>>4930070
>>
>>4930808

You find a bit of privacy behind the stage and extract from your pack the small leather pouch containing your small personal supply of shirin. You need to restore some vitality for what you have planned, and as Hawksong's biggest advocate of the ‘spice', you know just the trick. Sure enough, a little dab of the powder on your tongue has you buzzing in a few minutes, your muscular and nervous system awash in artificial vigor. Now, to go hunting!

You seek prey of many varieties this evening, but first and foremost is the sort with which you have the most experience: young, dumb, and full of mana to help feed the demon inside.

‘Ooooh fuck, we're doing it!’ Irinnile chirps, giddy with anticipation. ‘Can I take the lead? Can I, can I?’

‘No,’ you say. ‘Just sit down, shut up, and enjoy the meal.’

‘Uuuggh. Fine. You’re just lucky that you're hot when you're dominant.’

It doesn’t take you long on the floor to find a couple appreciative males from the crowd of admirers earlier—not regulars, nobody that will be missed immediately or traced back to you if they go missing after your little rendezvous. You smile at their non-jokes, touch them casually and allow them to reciprocate, and before long they are eager to speak the language of coin-for-flesh. They propose a room, of course, but when you tell them you've always fantasized about the exhibitionist thrill of relations in the cool night air, luring them to their possible doom becomes child's play.

You get the two men alone in an alley a couple blocks away from your workplace closer to a rival lounge that you hope will carry any initial suspicion if you end up dumping a couple corpses there. The thought would normally stur some trepidation in you, but wuth the shirin pumping through you, you are confident you can manage Irinnile; with Irinnile's desire bubbling like a cauldron, you are slightly drooling at the thought of what’s to come. You're barely out of sight from the street when you drop to your knees and part your lips. Your marks waste no time, and if they might the sloppiness that comes with your shirin-numbed tongue, or the enthusiasm of your demon-addled state, they express it only in groans of praise and muttered profanity.
>>
>>4930845
<WANT: 12>

You manage to pull your mouth away from the male after you have milked tye poor mammals for as much as you think they can handle. Whether she is simply sated from earlier or actually trying to cooperate, you find you have relatively little trouble bottling Irinnile back uo. The males are both slumped against the wall, both of them looking as if they might pass out, but they're breathing. You colect your monetary payment, with what you think is a fair tip for your service, and abscond while they recover.

Now, thus sated and with your demon tamed, the real hunt begins. Someone was tracking your source of shirin, and you take that personally. Time to find out who, and why.

What do you do?
>Shapeshift into someone unrecognizable and walk the docks, hoping to serve as tempting bait
>Take to the wing, flying over the city under cover of darkness and using Irinnile’s senses to search
>Do some more dream-hopping, looking for clues in the sleeping souls of Hawksong
>Just head down to the sewers to seek out wererat stragglers--it's probably them
>Write-in
>>
>>4930848
>Shapeshift into someone unrecognizable and walk the docks, hoping to serve as tempting bait

perhaps someone recognizable, like one of the cat men who were actually being stalked
>>
>>4930845
>Do some more dream-hopping, looking for clues in the sleeping souls of Hawksong
>>
>>4931064
+1
>>
Rolled 4, 13, 20, 19 = 56 (4d20)

>>4931212
>>4931085
>>4931064
>>
>>4931256
‘Can you make me appears as one of Cuggi’s cat-,en?’ you ask Irinnile.

‘A cat-man? I, uh, see a couple problems with that request,’ Irinnile laughs.

‘I’m serious,’ you insist. ‘You transformed me into a full-blooded Reptilian, didn’t you?’

‘No,’ she corrects, ‘I regrew your amputated tail and spread you scaly patches out while making minor, mostly cosmetic changes. I didn’t really create new stuff out of whole-cloth, get it?’

‘And the horns, hooves, wings, and talons?’

‘Yeah, those are MY horns, hooves, wings, and talons!’ Irinnile protests.

‘Then regrow and modify my Reptilian tail,’ you suggest, ‘and extend my face out. Spread my hair across my body.’

‘Alright…’

Irinnile sound uncertain, but willing to make the attempt. You start off towards the docks and, upon finding a private moment, you dip into another alley and allow the succubus to go to work.

<WANT: 13>

You emerge a changed woman. You cast about for a surface to view yourself in, eventually finding some pooled water. While it’s no perfect looking-glass, you are shocked at how cat-like you are, and how reduced your female mammalian characteristics have become. More a cat-androgene than a cat-man, perhaps, but you doubt that a non-felid would notice the distinction at a glance.

‘Good work,’ you praise the demon.

‘What can I say? I’m an artist.’

You complete your journey to the dock, where you begin to walk without definite direction, hoping to draw out those who stalked you earlier…

And indeed, after about an hour of meandering, you do.

‘Behind you,’ Irinnile warns unnecessarily. With the demon modifying your body, your senses and hers are truly enmeshed. You feel the presence just as well as she does. Neither of you are certain who or what it is, though. When you cast our glance surreptitiously backwards, you see and hear nothing…

But your demonic senses still note the presence.

What do you do?
>Confront whoever it is directly
>Attempt to affect a trip and fall, to draw out an assailant with false vulnerability
>Attempt to wield telepathic powers to draw them out of hiding and to you
>Slip into the shadows and sneak around to nab them by surprise
>Write-in
>>
>>4931267
>Slip into the shadows and sneak around to nab them by surprise

Illusions.
>>
>>4931267
>Slip into the shadows and sneak around to nab them by surprise

sneeki sneki
>>
>>4931267
>Attempt to wield telepathic powers to draw them out of hiding and to you
>>
Rolled 12, 12, 17 = 41 (3d20)

>>4931476
>>4931344
>>4931276
>>
>>4931484
You slip seamlessly into the salty mists which rise amongst the sails and rigging. Flapping canvas hides your already-quiet footfalls, and if any movement is spotted it is easily dismissed. Your own training in this field is further supplemented by your dark passenger: Irinnile is a master of directing attention, and while that normally means drawing it all to herself—and you, as her host—she can steer it away ass well, especially in shadow. It is child’s play to loop around behind your pursuer and he is never the wiser.

It is a ‘he’, you note: a weaselly-looking man in dark attire, wearing spectacles of some sort. He looks out-of-place here, tidy and neat in demeanor and grooming despite his rumpled canvas jacket. You can’t imagine him crewing a ship, or amongst the roustabouts in the Clam ‘n Kettle, nor among those Boss Leo’s scattered band of wererats. Is he a pawn of your occult adversaries, perhaps? Something else altogether?

‘He smells yummy,’ Irinnile notes.

You sniff the air, and indeed he does—not a scent, exactly, but a sensation. You realize your body has not ingested food—you left the Clam ‘N Kettle before getting lunch. Your stomach suddenly rumbles at the ‘yummy smell’, despite having just sated the demon’s unholy appetites.

‘I mean, you want him gone anyway, right?’ Irinnile asks. ‘Why not, ya’ know… Down the hatch?’

‘Glutton,’ you chastise her.

…But she’s right, sort of. You have the element of surprise now. You could slay this man easily, draining him for all he’s worth with the succubus’ kiss and sating your need in the process. Then again, you might not know who he is—or was—and what purpose brought him to this place, stalking Eastern Standard cat-men at the piers. More and more bodies piling up with signs of energy drain could present an issue, too, should anyone uncover your other handiwork.

What do you do?
>Slay him and drink his soul
>Attack the man, but restrain and interrogate him
>Probe his mind for clues as to his purpose here, but try to be subtle about it
>Approach him innocently, and ask his purpose here while in disguise
>Stalk the stalker, and follow him to see where he goes
>Write-in
>>
>>4931498
>Attack the man, but restrain and interrogate him

We can always drain him after the interrogation, and uh tie some brinks to him and throw him in the drink so his body isn't found.

We need to find a crematorium that doesn't ask questions
>>
>>4931512
Supporting
>>
>>4931498
>Approach him innocently, and ask his purpose here while in disguise
>>
Rolled 3, 7 = 10 (2d20)

>>4931594
[ATTACK, DC 10]
>>
>>4931697
You draw your dagger—a precaution, as you don’t plan to stick this particular pig just yet—and lunge. You catch the man off-guard, certainly, tumbling end over end with your tail lashing behind you and your dagger raised in threat. You aren’t sloppy, but nor are you overly cautious. Part of that might be the shirin in your system, but part of it is experience. What can this pathetic-looking specimen do to you, a shapeshifting martial artist, trained by Reptilian master combatants and empowered by demonic fervor? Mundane weapons can’t even scratch you!

But then, it isn’t mundane weaponry that he fights back with. The weaselly-looking ape-man lashes out not with flailing fists, nor with simple steel, but with magic lightning.

‘MAGE! Mage mage mage!’

Your demonic accomplice’s less-than-erudite commentary is not terribly necessary. The terrible sensation of electricity surging through your body tells you all you need to know. You spasm and fall backwards, scrambling way from the male even as he crawls in the opposite direction and struggles to his feet. He squints in the darkness of the moonlight, lacking your infernally-acquired night-vision. However, he is indeed a mage, and that means that mage-light is a flick of the wrist and a command word away. He materializes a bluish glow, and you thank your good sense that you have hidden your appearance behind a shifted shape.

“Halt!” the mage declares. His eyes are wide and he is clearly shaken, but he speaks with certainty, with officiality and authority. You know what he is before he speaks once more and confirms it: “I am an Inquisitor of the Tower of the Mages of Hawksong, and I command you to surrender or be destroyed!”

Your entire body is still wracked with pain from the bolt of lightning, your skin smoking and senses atingle in a most unpleasant fashion. You’re not sure you could survive another couple blasts like that.

‘Oh shit, oh shit,’ Irinnile whines, seemingly genuinely fearful. ‘Lispy, whadda we doooo?!’
>Fight on—you can’t afford to let this mage geta way alive, to report what he’s seen
>Flee—you aren’t prepared to fight a combat-trained mage
>Misdirect him—try to frame the situation such that he targets someone else [how? What do you say?]
>Banter with him—maybe by faking compliance and conversing, you can learn what he knows
>Direct Irinnile to use her psychic powers to incapacitate the man with fear or desire
>Write-in
>>
>>4931700
>Fight on—you can’t afford to let this mage geta way alive, to report what he’s seen
>>
>>4931700
>Direct Irinnile to use her psychic powers to incapacitate the man with fear
>>
>>4931700
>Misdirect him—try to frame the situation such that he targets someone else [Oh yea? A couple of my friends end up dead and I find a strange man stalking me in the dead of night? Like hell you sick fuck!]
>Banter with him—maybe by faking compliance and conversing, you can learn what he knows

I don’t know if this is a good idea or not, but we only used illusions and mundane weapons so far, we could still bluff our way into some sort of diplomacy about directing him to Zivic and the were-rats. If we fail, this still falls back on the catmen, who will leave sometime soon.
>>
[I'll check back later in the day to see if the tie breaks. Bit of muscle soreness today, so probably expect only one or two posts.]
>>
>>4932059
Sorry to hear that mate, hope that heals up soon!
>>
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>>4931700
>Direct Irinnile to use her psychic powers to incapacitate the man with fear

Gotta fly him out of the Hawksong into a remote place to do some interrogation and then strip and disappear the body. We sure as fuck don't want the Tower to find a dead mage with traces of demonic shit and medieval coke on him.
Plus Irinnile can suck his life out completely to control the horny.

>>4932059
What green anon said. Hope you feel good soon, RQM!
>>
Rolled 10, 20, 7, 10, 9 = 56 (5d20)

>>4932098
>>4931979
>>4931795
>>4931712

[DC 13 to control Irinnile, DC 17 to affect the Inquisitor]
>>
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>>4932137
‘Irinnile, focus!’

‘R-right, sure. Focus.’

‘You said you could wield fear, too, correct?’

You advance on the Tower Inquisitor, a snarling and hunched jungle-beast from the Far East. He takes a step back, but you can see his hands working to weave an enchantment. Who knows what deadly dangers such an operative could conjure? Best not to find out, you feel.

‘Do it, now!’

You open your mouth to scream, and Irinnile turns it into a terrifying roar that rocks the pier—at least, in the target’s perception. He stumbles, some enmeshing mystical web of net flying wide. You close to distance and tackle him, gripping him with hands that are now more like talons than anything a human, or even a Reptilian or a cat-man, would have. You cannot know precisely what the Inquisitor sees, but you know it must be horrifying, for he wails in abject fear.

“What is this? What re you? NO! NO!”

The docks are hardly bustling at this time of night, but this level of noise is still too great a risk. You focus all your own mystical energies as best you can, willing them into your eyes, into your stare, willing the man to be still, silent, weak and helpless.

‘Here, lemme’ help.’

<WANT: 14>

You feel irinnile’s presence like a gentle hand on the small of your back, like a supple body pressed to yours… And then into yours. She doesn’t take control—she gives herself to you, and you reciprocate. A more perfect union forms, if just for an instant. The Inquisitor’s mouth moves, jaw hanging in a silent scream as he tries to speak, to even babble. Eventually, eh squeaks out a single word:

“Rakshasa.”

He passes out, a wet stain in his robes and his face as pale as death… But despite it all, he yet breathes. Better yet, no help ahs arrived—if he wasn’t working alone, his back-up hasn’t yet realized his absence, nor has your scuffle or his screaming attracted any bystanders. Granted, the entire event couldn’t have lasted more than a scant few seconds, despite how it felt.

What do you do with the Inquisitor?
>Drain him and slay him
>Fly him outside of Hawksong to interrogate
>Drag him into an alley and dive into his mind to explore his memories, and alter them if possible
>Leave him like this—if he thinks you a cat-demon and not a Reptilian, he could be a useful idiot
>Write-in
>>
>>4932158
>Drag him into an alley and dive into his mind to explore his memories, and alter them if possible

Maybe just drain him instead of bothering to alter, depending on what we find.
>>
>>4932158
>Drag him into an alley and dive into his mind to explore his memories, and alter them if possible

We’re going to need another snacc after this, and while I would prefer to use him as a battery, I don’t want to risk the potential he has in getting the heat off our back and being a useful tool to risk Irinnile having lunch instead of a snacc.

>>4932170
We drain him fully, his friends will know somethings up. We alter his memories, he become a useful tool to direct their investigation away from us and towards our enemies. Seems quite a coup if we can manage that.
>>
>>4932184
Can we really alter memories to that level? I dunno
>>
>>4932187
[Potentially, yes. It would be 4d20, as an occult power, but with a higher than average DC.]
>>
>>4932158
>Fly him outside of Hawksong to interrogate
>>
>>4932187
It won’t be a substantial rewriting, if that what your worried about. I just want some of the footnotes of the investigation altered so when they do go over them they come to a different conclusion on where to direct their investigation. Even if it fails to take root, it’ll distract and delay the investigation somewhat while we plan on how to deal with them all.
>>
>>4932187
I’m not saying we rewrite large sections whole-cloth, but we can alter some of the footnotes in his head to suggest that he directs his investigation elsewhere, somewhere more useful to our own ends.
>>
>>4932203
Oh, now you post!
>>
Rolled 9, 12, 3, 16 = 40 (4d20)

>>4932170
>>4932184
[DC 16 to access memories, DC 18 to modify]
>>
>>4932423
Slightly frustrating, but no biggie really.
>>
>>4932423
With strength beyond your normal capabilities—Irinnile can do even this?—you drag the hapless investigating mage between a couple storehouses. Safely relocated t somewhere even less conspicuous, and without the sense of any other sapient souls around, you set to work.

<WANT: 15>

It is a normally simple thing to delve into a dreaming man’s mind, normally. Well, you assume so—you’ve done it twice, three if you count this excursion. Irinnile’s own sense is that it should be, certainly… But it is not so with this mage.

Ugh. Mental blocks. You suppose that makes sense, in this man’s line of work.

With his brain addled by fear, you find these defences weakened. You cut a nightmare swath through his subconscious and into his recent memories, a tiger tearing through hide with the claws of your demonic presence. The inquisitor’s mental safeguards flee in terror before your might, and you infiltrate his mind.

What you find is perhaps somewhat surprising. A part of you feared that the Tower was onto you, either for your demonic dealings of late or more broadly in their investigation of the Zivic Manor murders and the matter in the sewer. Not so! The inquisitor’s memories of discussion with his colleagues and with other authorities reveal that, while they are aware of The Gray Press stories and the connections it draws between rat-men in the sewers and occult dealings in the Zivic household, they take them with a grain of salt. Rather, the tales of bestial humanoids skulking about the Zivic residence have led them to a different primary suspect in Zivic’s murder: Cuggi.

It seems the old relationship between Cuggi, Madam Mina, and the late Lady Zivic is a matter of record, at least to those who have reason to pry. So too is the fact that they parted company on a sour note. That Cuggi should arrive in town with a company of foreign beasts, just before she perished… Well, it seemed more likely than some tale of heretofore unknown shapeshifters in the sewers. And if there be deadly shapeshifters involved, is not the rumoured fox-woman present as a bodyguard and enforcer for the Eastern Standard company a likely culprit?

You find modifying the inquisitor’s memories beyond your abilities, at least at present. However, the knowledge of the investigation thus far is invaluable. It presents complications to your business dealings, yes, but also opportunities to keep the Tower off of your tail as you go about your more important infiltration objectives….
>>
>>4932455
What do you do?
>Slay the inquisitor, and make it look like a cat-man or fox-woman did it with claws and teeth
>Slay the inquisitor, and disappear him into the sea
>Shapeshift into a facsimile of a wererat, and wait for him to awaken and behold you before retreating—let the Tower hunt your foes and steer them away from your business partners
>Adopt a demonic guise and await the inquisitor’s waking—steer the Tower towards occult forces, in the hopes they can eliminate the Devil-Zivic for you
>Leave him here, unconscious, and let him draw what conclusion he will—you have what you needed
>Write-in
>>
>>4932457
>Slay the inquisitor, and disappear him into the sea

Don't want to incriminate Cuggi and any option where we let him live will backfire when he stops to think about why he managed to escape. Make sure to drain him first, get that want down.
>>
>>4932457
>Leave him here, unconscious, and let him draw what conclusion he will—you have what you needed

I have no opinion on this, and will defer to the majority.

>>4932542
>doesn't want to incriminate Cuggi
>slays the stalker specifically on a mission to check out Cuggi and other cat-men

Just some food for thought mate.
>>
>>4932457
>Leave him here, unconscious, and let him draw what conclusion he will—you have what you needed

His death would have an impact on the investigation - likely making them more cautious, which is bad for us.

Best case he thinks he ran into some monster unrelated to the case that ran away.

But now we have information and the upper hand.
>>
>>4932632
Don't want to incriminate him more
>>
>>4932680
Then a were-rat or demonic guise might suit what your going for.

Or we can simply take his valuables and he can assume he was simply mugged.

>>4932457
>Steal his valuables, and other magic items he might carry around

Might as well make it look like a simple mugging. I don't want to screw over anon here by incriminating our car-men of murder.
>>
>>4932732
Backing stealing his shit
>>
>>4932457
>Slay the inquisitor, and make it look like a cat-man or fox-woman did it with claws and teeth
>>
Seems like we're only getting one update today lads.
>>
>>4932882
[I actually already updated twice today, but I might have one left in me this evening.

Looks like we have a narrow victory for stealing his belongings and leaving him.]
>>
>>4932732
>Then a were-rat or demonic guise might suit what your going for.

Maybe for the first 5 minutes. Past that he's going to start wondering why we didn't kill him while he was unconscious, and about the freaky shit he saw before passing out.
>>
>>4932901
Looting his shit will solve his wondering why he's alive. The freaky shit could be attributed to illusions, Foxy does have that ability attributed to her. There are simpler explanations that fit with his knowledge of the situation that won't lead back to us. Once Cuggi leaves, this situation will resolve itself quite nicely, though we might consider telling him to leave town early after we get our product from him if anons are worried about his health.
>>
>>4932839
>>4932804
>>4932732
>>4932638
>>4932632
>>4932542

The thought of leaving the inquisitor here, alive and with memories of being accosted by a beast-man, causes you some consternation. You were wearing the likeness of a cat-man when you attacked him, after all. This could lead to greater scrutiny of Cuggi and Eastern Standard, which turn will interfere with your new business venture. However, ‘disappearing’ him into the sea when he was investigating the comings and goings of Cuggi’s company would no doubt have an even greater effect, and a still more damning implication. If only you could have figured out how to fiddle with the investigator’s memories!

‘Sorry, Lispy,’ Irinnle sighs. ‘He’s just locked up to damn tight, even for me.’

It seems the annoyance has broken the closeness which allowed you to fully enmesh your consciousness with Irinnile’s. You an now hear her as a separate voice in your head once more.
>Admonish her
>Praise her
>Ask her about something that you’ve been wondering [what? Please specify]
>Say nothing
>>
>>4932962
You decide to leave the agent of the Tower be. He can recover in his own time, and draw what conclusion he will. Irinnile whines slightly, having been hoping for a dessert, but she doesn’t push her luck by attempting to seize control. You strip the inquisitor of his coat and search his pockets for valuables. If even the students in the Initiates’ Village were carrying such valuable magical items, what might an inquisitor have?

Well, for one thing, he bears a badge! If you were less savvy in the ways of the Tower, you would take the embossed sigil as a mere sea of his office and its authority, but you recall the badge Edwin’s mother owned—the one which even now sits in the Engel manor, and which you examined with your sixth sense. This no doubt carries the same properties as a talisman to grant you passage into the Tower’s private areas! Perhaps it might even provide access to areas a mere student would be forbidden?

Besides the badge, the inquisitor’s spectacles also bear and enchantment. At first you believe them to be akin to Lord Yosef’s illusion-breaking pair—to know that every investigating mage and such a thing would be a daunting discovery. However, as you try them on and focus upon the magic within, you can already tell they feel different, and notably less powerful than Yosef’s artefact. You cannot work out exactly what they do, but you take them anyway.

You also make to take the main’s coinpurse, and in doing so you find a second small amulet. To your surprise, you find it is of silver and black kyanite, seemingly made by hand and further enchanted. You reach for it, but it burns your hand and send you skittering instinctively backwards. Perhaps this is part of what lent the investigator his mental and spiritual resilience to your meddling?

You consider trying to cut its thin chain with your dagger, but the investigator begins to stir. Unwilling to slay him at this time, you are forced to cloak yourself in shadow, and to depart with that which you have already seized. With any luck, he will think himself the victim of an unknown monster or mugger, unrelated to any lines of investigation thus followed.

Your heart is racing from the encounter, your stomach rumbles with unsatisfied hunger, and your shirin high is fading and filling your body with the exhaustion the spice had until now held at bay –and with more besides, due to the come-down. You feel the ened for rest mos intensely

Where do you go to rest and seek food?
>The Pretty Kitty
>The Engel Manor
>Roth’s home
>The Eastern Standard tents
>Your old apartment
>Screw rest—you take more shirin and return to your spycraft [doing what?]
>Write-in

[Please note that, unless you specify otherwise, a vote for TPK, the Engels, or Eastern Standard will assume you shapeshift back to normal, at a price of +1 <WANT>]
>>
>>4932962
>Praise her

You've done well... for a glutton.

>>4932963
>Screw rest—you take more shirin and return to your spycraft [fullfill WANT, test out magical artifacts]
>The Engel Manor

I want our WANT to be as satisfied as demonically possible before we head home yet again, and I'd like to try out our new artifacts. I also want to spy on other's dreams again, starting with Yosef (because it's been awhile). We should also consider getting other magical artifacts that can help control Irinnile, either now or later.
>>
>>4932962
>Say nothing

>>4932963
>The Engel Manor

We should definitely shapeshift back

>>4932945
Have to disagree with you there, all the wererat media has painted them as very murderous, the kill and steal type rather than just steal. No matter what we do, without the memory stuff he or his superiors would wonder why we didn't also kill him with the rep wererats have. Plus if they start trusting those rumors they might become less skeptical of the reptilian books published by the same source. It's over now anyway so it doesn't matter, but those were my thoughts.
>>
>>4932997
While I do agree with that analysis, I was mainly pointing out that if you wanted to deflect suspicion from Cuggi and his company, those would be the options you'd choose. I didn't want to choose them because it's to close to our dealings for me to be comfortable with them poking around when it wasn't their original reason to.
>>
>>4932963
>Say nothing

>The Pretty Kitty

But on our way back find a mark and satisfy our <WANT>
>>
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Rolled 2, 15, 14, 7, 17, 8, 19 = 82 (7d20)

>Say nothing
>Engel Manor
>Feed <WANT> along the way to destination

Writing. 4d20 for Irinnile mastery, DC 17 (<WANT> 15, plus exhaustion). 3d20 for seduction.
>>
>>4933211
dang, seduction hogging all the good rolls.
>>
>>4933211
I take back my praise. You are such a glutton, and you were doing so well too.
>>
>>4933211
You offer your demon no condemnation nor appreciation. She did alright, for a glutton, but you don’t want her getting any ideas about equality in your relationship. Still… On top of your own hunger, her growing <WANT> if difficult to ignore. You’ve made a lot of use of her today, and a bit of non-lethal oral in an alley isn’t enough to offset that.

You rub your eyes slightly and will your rumbling stomach to silence itself. It’s time to head home for the evening, you know this… But if you’re going to be snuggling up with Edwin, you want your <WANT> to be as satisfied as demonically possible first, before you allow Irinnile out to shift your shape once more. Maybe it can even give you the energy boost to invade a dream or two, or to experiment with your growing cache of magical items. There’s so much to do, and so little time in the evening!

The docks are a no-go for that kind of work—not with Tower Inquisition skulking about, probably with greater numbers after the incident you just precipitated, and you still appearing as a beast-person. For similar reasons, you can’t just return to The Pretty Kitty to pick up a client—they’ll think you a rival working their turf, and you get the feeling Mina would take poorly to that. You are forced to do as you once did when mastering the craft of prostitution: to walk the dirty streets of the rough side of Hawksong in revealing attire and to wait for the catcalls.

Fewer come for you this night—fewer people seem to be out and about. You suppose that’s what happens when the gossip rags are telling of murderous mouse-faced men, and corpses are turning up in the sewers. Those who see you often avoid you rather than wolf-whistling as they would at Kamunu—a leonine androgyne must have a more niche appeal. At least you suppose your predatory aura and your feline features put you at relatively low risk of the dreaded wererat attack.

‘Come on, Lispy,’ Irinnile whines. ‘Let me turn up the heat. We’ll attract ‘em like moths to a flame!’

‘And burn them up just the same,’ you say. ‘No thanks. I’ve got this.’

You lean against a wall, pulling your shirt down and skirt up and lashing your tail in what you think a provocative fashion. This at least draws some attention, though the stares are more curious in many cases than aroused. Eventually, though, someone bites.

The target is an older male, a bit portly and less than pleasant on the eyes and nose. He has money, though, and more importantly he has desire and a mortal soul. You eye him like a fat slab of honey-glazed ham, and beckon him out of sight of the street. Once there, you get to work on him, kissing and nibbling, licking and savouring…
>>
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>>4933238
But he has something rougher in mind. He grabs you and pushes you up against the wall, ignoring your bark of protest.

“Easy!” you demand.

“Shut up, you filthy animal!” he spits—literally—and slaps you hard across the face.

The sudden change in demeanour catches you off-guard, and you aren’t performing at your best. You wheel around to strike back with your martial arts prowess, but the fat man throws his weight atop you and pushes you into the filthy alley. You kick and claw, but whatever superhuman strength Irinnile afforded you has waned with your exhaustion and your denial of freedom to the hungry demoness. With the succubus caged inside your soul, your tired body is helpless against the wheezing mass of fat and muscle which forces your legs apart and prepares to roughly penetrate you.

‘Maybe it’s time to let me out, then?’ Irinnile suggests. ‘Come on—let’s show this pig how the sausage is made, huh?’

You feel a primal fear and a furious outrage rise up within you as the filthy human male ruts with you in this course fashion, daring to place his thick fingers upon your throat… And with that anger, Irinnile rises, also. You see red, and feel a fire like you imagine the underworld must hold. You feel desire, and fear, and pain, and then all three.

And then nothing.


You wake up to morning light, and to the tangled, star-spangled sheets of a familiar undersized bed. You freeze, startled and confused, and then immediately look down at your hands, your body. No hair, no claws. You’re you again, in body and soul.
>>
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>>4933241
“Izzy?” Edwin groans. You can see hickeys all across his neck and chest as he sits up, superficial scratch-marks across his back as he rolls over, and even a few bruises. He moves as if tender, and you feel a pang of fear and… Something else you can’t place, something unpleasant. You’d think it was guilt if you didn’t know better.

‘What did you do?!’ you demand of Irinnile within, but she makes no reply.

“Good morning,” you say aloud, forcing a smile. “Are you alright?”

“After last night, I don’t know how I could NOT be,” Edwin says with a broad, slightly dopey smile of his own. He’s clearly reminiscencing about… Well, whatever you ‘slept’ through.

“It lookss as if I went a little… Overboard,” you note, gesturing to the many marks.

“You were in a, uh, especially enthusiastic mood, yes,” Edwin notes. “I think the servants… Probably know you were in here last night if that was at all a secret. What got into you?”

You just shrug and affect a giggle. You aren’t on hundred percent sure what all got into you, or into Irinnile… But you realize with a grim understanding that you are no longer at all hungry.

How do you focus your efforts today?
>Seeking a way to master or separate from Irinnile [please specify which]
>Experimenting with your acquired magic items
>Researching options for plants or alchemical ingredients to cut shirin with
>Checking in on Lord Yosef to see what the old Reptilian truther is up to
>Maintaining your cover identity’s social contacts [Edwin? Agatha Johan? The girls at work? Someone else?]
>Write-in
>>
<WANT: 10>
>>
>>4933243
>Seeking a way to master or separate from Irinnile [Preferably master, but not picky]
>Experimenting with your acquired magic items
>Checking in on Lord Yosef to see what the old Reptilian truther is up to

I'm mad, and I don't want to talk to Irinnile until we get a handle on her. The fat man I could give less of a shit about, so long as he was disposed of properly (secretly and without connection to us or the occult), and I could deal with her fooling around with Edwin, but draining our boy toy was a red line, one I fear she crossed. I don't want to acknowledge Irinnile or use her abilities at all for today, so some light duties are in order.

Also, you're my MVP today QM. Updating this late, after a day full of updating and dealing with muscle soreness? I do appreciate your effort and dedication here. Now rest easy, you have went well beyond the call of duty today mate.
>>
>>4933243
>Seeking a way to master or separate from Irinnile [please specify which]
Fucking ritual. Prepare the ritual.
I don't care where she goes, but she crossed the line TWICE now.
>Experimenting with your acquired magic items
>Take a walk to the docks and place where we lost control yesterday
We don't even know what the fuck happened on the streets last night.

vbxnsnabbsbx I missed 35 posts
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>>4933243
>Researching options for plants or alchemical ingredients to cut shirin with
>Maintaining your cover identity’s social contacts [Edwin? Agatha Johan? The girls at work? Someone else?]
>>
>>4933243
>Seeking a way to master Irinnile

>Experimenting with your acquired magic items

>Checking in on Lord Yosef to see what the old Reptilian truther is up to

She’s useful, but she needs a leash.
>>
>>4933460
>>4933441
>>4933340
>>4933267

You spend breakfast—quite a light breakfast, in your case, easily justified by pretending your diet includes periods of fasting and portion control—monitoring Edwin for symptoms of energy drain. The man in the alley… Well, as long as whatever she did to him doesn’t draw down the attention of the city’s authorities down upon you, you suppose you can forgive that. But disobeying you, potentially harming Edwin? You’re tempted to find a way to banish her then and there.

To your great relief, though, Edwin seems unharmed. He looks more than a little goofy in his high-collared winter rob in the midst of summer, with an ascot pulled around his hickey-covered neck no less, but then Edwin has always been an eccentric dresser. Apart from the superficial ‘injuries’ of the rambunctious evening and the resultant fashion faux pas, he seems entirely normal.

Still, neither you nor Irinnile ‘speak’ to each other. You can only speculate as to her the reasons for her silence—likely trying to stay below your notice and avoid thus avoid punishment, like a dog who peed on the rug. You are busy thinking of how to better leash the demon to your will.

You make your usual excuses and leave, but not before checking your pack to verify that your looted magical items are still there. They are! When you investigate the carriage, you find that no well-meaning servant has yet cleaned beneath the seats: your Serpent Priest staff is still there, too. You bundle it in a bit of cloth from one of the storage boxes scattered about the Engel manor to conceal its nature—it is stolen goods, after all—and you head out.

Your main priority is to learn how to manage your demon’s impulses better, but so too do you hope to figure out how best to make use of your inventory of mystical accoutrements. You’re also beginning to feel a pinch of anxiety about Lord Yosef; not having checked in on the vengeful old noble, you can only imagine what he may have been getting up to with his magic glasses in a climate of growing unease about shapeshifting murderers.
>>
>>4933477
Learning about the use of magic items could be accomplished independently at the Royal Library, of course. For learning the ways of demons and means of managing them, though, there is really no better resource you know of than spooky Lord Bianchi, who summoned Irinnile to begin with, and who also knows a fair amount about magic items.

However, Bianchi doesn’t know that you stole his succubus out from under him, let alone that you allowed her to possess you.

One who does, and who might have some useful advice of her own, is the Eastern Standard Silk & Spice Company’s mysterious fox-woman enforcer… But then, she has made it clear in the past that the price for her advice is that you hand Irinnile over to her. There’s also the complication that the Tower Inquisition may be watching her…

What do you do?
>Head to the library for some independent study
>Pay Bianchi a visit to seek his resources and aid [describe any cover story you make to justify Irinnile’s presence within you]
>Seek the assistance of the fox-woman [specify any bargain you offer to earn her aid]
>Visit Lord Yosef first, and sort out the demon later
>Write-in
>>
>>4933478
>Seek the assistance of the fox-woman
We could just give her the succubus in exchange from assistance on pulling her out of us.
This way if mages start taking the demon threat seriously after last night, it will be fox's problem to deal with, plus we'll be able to get inside the tower without triggering any demonic alarms.
I miss the time when we didn't have a ticking bomb inside.
>>
>>4933518
[While I'm not going to lock you folks into the decision, it's worth noting that the majority voted to master, not exorcise or transfer, Irinnile on the last vote. In thread 1, playera expressed frustration about people constantly trying to undo or cancel out previous decisions, and how it made The Infiltrator feel very random and flighty at times. Something to keep in mind.]
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>>4933478
>Head to the library for some independent study

Piss poor replacement, but what can you do?

>>4933518
After last night, Eastern Standard may come under more scrutiny. Or not, depending on how embarrassed the inquisitor feels about his mugging.id prefer that things settle down a bit there before we attempt to get some aid from Foxy.

And Bianchi doesn't need to know about Irinnile in order for use to read from his personal collection, right?
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>>4933478
>Head to the library for some independent study

Best of the bunch
>>
>>4933478
>Head to the library for some independent study

One thing we could try to find is some way to increase Irinille's efficiency. She needs to feed so often, her milage is shit.
>>
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>>4934083
>>4933994
>>4933690
>>4933518
As you are unwilling to trade Irinnile away (yet), and you have nothing else you can think of to offer the fox-woman, you regrettably write her assistance off. You wonder if perhaps you could ask to borrow some of Bianchi's private arcane tomes without even touching on the matter of Irinnile, but this too seems like a bad plan—he is no generous benefactor, and even if you could offer him a trade, you would need to at least HINT at the subject of demonic possession to ensure you acquired a truly-useful text. No, you fear you mist go it alone.

It is mid-morning when you arrive at the Royal Library. For you, this is shamefully late, but you slept in later than you normally do, and spent much of the early morning hovering around Edwin. This still gives you ample time to search through the depressingly slim selection of literature which Hawksong's scholar deem safe for public consumption. As you'd found on your previous sojourns, much of the accessible material better resembles surface-world religious propaganda than anything of actual scholarly merit.

Not one to be easily discouraged, you eventually find a few nuggets of useful demonology, particularly in the book “Famous Betrayals and Follies of the Accursed". Though framed as a somewhat sensational moral polemic about the moral degeneracy and inevitable doom of any who deal with demons and devils, the collection of allegedly-historic possessions and pacts presents an illustrated guide of pitfalls for you to avoid. You find no perfect analogues to your situation, but a few hew close.
>>
>>4934391
A running theme of the book, for instance, is that demons are not native to the material plane, nor is their truest self ever really housed there. Their alien nature and single hoof perpetually in the fire and darkness means that drawing upon their power through pacts and favours can never truly reach an equilibrium. As a summoner deals more and more with a demon, more and more OF the demon is drawn forth into the material realm, and the more their connection to their unholy wellspring of power dwindles; thus, the hungrier they grow for matter and energy to sustain themselves in this world. Perhaps you have simply been calling upon Irinnile too often?

A specific tale which resonates with you is one of a possession event: a wife and mother, distraught at the loss of her son to a wasting disease, such to return his newly-dead body to life with demonic assistance. While at first animal blood alone was enough to sustain him, the demon's hunger grew and grew. The boy began to demand animals be killed ritualistically for him, and then that his mother provide her blood, and eventually the blood of others. When she gave in, he would become placid and childlike, but the longer she denied him, the less like himself the boy would seem. Eventually, she denied him outright, and he would begin to rage and to become monstrous. By the same token that herbs could be used in the fashioning of an amulet, it seems that the mixing and burning of certain homegrown cultivars was able to suppress the demonic persona and its violence. She ultimately was able to shackle him with silver bracelets and iron chains, and by invoking the prayers of her pathetic mammal gods, she was able to banish the demon and leave her son both alive and whole.

The thought of invoking any of the so-called “gods of light” fills you with antipathic disgust, but then… Well, anything they can do, surely the Dark Gods could do better?

‘You don’t get it,’ Irinnile grouses, the first stirring of her you’ve experienced all day.

‘What are you on about?’ you snap at her mentally, still not ready to deal with her on amicable terms.

‘You mortals. You don’t get it. If the mother in the story had accepted the demon and the boy as one, their halves wouldn’t have been at war. It’s easier to exist on this plane with the shelter of an accepting host. When a demon is untethered and free, or when the host rejects it… It takes more power to sustain the demon. Power that has to come from elsewhere.’
>>
>>4934397
You mull over that without responding, as well as the other solutions which have occurred to you during your reading. It is nearly noon when you arrive upon your short-list of options to tame Irinnile.
>Use Irinnile’s power more sparingly, and hope that her hunger subsides naturally
>Dope her with the burning of herbs, and attempt to use your new Serpent Priest staff to reach out in communion to the Dark Gods to subjugate her wholly to your will
>Form a more perfect and accepting union with the demon, making her a more holistic part of yourself
>Find her a more suitable host for her—one who can fully embrace her, but would also be willing to work with you [if you have someone in mind, suggest it]
>Think on it a bit longer, and do some magic item research for now
>Write-in
>>
>>4934401
>Think on it a bit longer, and do some magic item research for now

Both the Serpent Priest staff and union ideas appeal to me…but we need to do some additional thinking and research.
>>
>>4934401
>Think on it a bit longer, and do some magic item research for now

We really should've been limiting our use of our demonic gifts from the beginning, but that's neither her nor there now. I've been trying to accommodate the WANT, it just seems like piss poor luck when we come to it. Holistic seems personally interesting to me, but I want to respect that one anon's reservations on the matter. Subjugation via staff might be worth it, but I prefer to leave that as a last resort. Host may have utility, I guess we'll have to bully Agatha later to see her boss.

I'd like to test out the holistic option, if it can be done temporarily.
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>>4934401
>Think on it a bit longer, and do some magic item research for now

>>4934442
I'm willing to go for holistic, but more research never hurt. One thing we could look into is if we go that route, would Irinille still set off magic detection or would we be able to pass as mundane because she's too deep in us? Not sure we'll be able to find anything, Irinille might be our only source for info on that situation.
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>>4934401
>Dope her with the burning of herbs, and attempt to use your new Serpent Priest staff to reach out in communion to the Dark Gods to subjugate her wholly to your will
>>
>>4934538
>>4934487
>>4934455
>>4934442

A part of you, greedy for the power and strategic advantage a succubus on board provide or attached to Irinnile for some other indiscernible reason, gravitates towards the holistic approach. However, there would be a certain satisfaction in subjugating the doubting demon to the will of the Dark Gods, too, and it may well be the more pragmatic choice. You wonder if either could shield her presence from Tower defences when it comes time for the Gala… But then, these books are little help at guiding you in strategic uses of a tamed demon,. That leaves only Irinnile herself to advise, and she’s naturally less than unbiased on the question.

You decide to think on your possible solutions a while longer, and to study the more mainstream mystical arts instead. On this matter, too, the library is sadly incomplete and insubstantial in many regards. Elven Librarian Fesliel is happy to assist in this matter, and quickly sets you up with the best of what’s on-offer. Sadly, the good stuff is, as always, hoarded by the Tower’s mages. Even in the Tower proper, you doubt you’d find much on the sacred staff of your secretive subterranean sect. You decide to read up on the matter of your other items.
>>
>>4934730
Potions seem self-explanatory enough. Your mana potion is meant to provide clarity of mind and revitalization of soul against fatigue brought on by overuse of magic. Even for a mundane person, such potions are believed to have a use in improving mental acuity to some degree.

The badge seems to fit well within a longstanding school of human magic whereby items and places are keyed to one another, and sometimes to individuals. A person bearing such a talisman may pass through barriers or bypass boobytraps keyed to prevent entry by the uninitiated. An item, too, may be keyed to behave in different ways within a specified environment, or in response to a specific presence, or even in regards to another items. It makes you think again of the city’s defensive project—of the dwarven sigil-stone and the ruins of their walls of sculptures, of the ominous tales of the dwarven engineer yesterday in the Smithing District. Do they operate on a similar principle?

You also attempt to get a sense of what energy lurks within the glasses your stole from the inquisitor. There is something there, but what? Yosef’s glasses—another troubling thought which comes to mind unbidden—were obvious enough in their purpose, but these ones seem unlike them. A bit of reading helps here, too. You read of glasses meant not to uncover or dispel, but to seek out and track. You realize with a start that these glasses are enchanted with a spell meant to ‘lock’ and individual in your sights and to help track them even in darkness or through objects. Useful, for an investigating agent, or for a skulking spy such as yourself! However, it seems such enchantments are easily blocked by lead.

On a whim, you also try to find more information on protection against demons. You feel Irinnile shift uneasily within your mind, but she needn’t worry… Not that you tell her so. Let her squirm! However, what you’re seeking is information on how to hide her presence, should you maintain this fruitful partnership. You find little on this matter, sadly… But there ARE tales of demons tricking or beguiling their way into wizards’ keeps, so you know that there must be a way. A pair of fables you find on the subject seem to both reference a hat of some sort, which when blown away or knocked off revealed horns. A silly tale of a paper-thin disguise, or an allegory to apparel which can hide a fiend’s true nature? Curious…

It is well into afternoon when you finish this last reading. Recalling the city defence plan and Lord Yosef’s glasses has troubled you, and you suddenly feel restless here. What do you do?

>Pay Lord Isaac Yosef an overdue visit, to see what trouble he might be brewing
>Focus on the main mission—go check out the Engelson storehouses which host the excavated dwarven ruins for further clues
>Take some shirin and keep studying, as neither the ruined masonry nor the old man are going anywhere [specify what topic you focus on]
>Write-in
>>
>>4934732
>Pay Lord Isaac Yosef an overdue visit, to see what trouble he might be brewing

It's about time we see what Yosef is cooking up. Speaking about cooking...

>Potions seem self-explanatory enough. Your mana potion is meant to provide clarity of mind and revitalization of soul against fatigue brought on by overuse of magic. Even for a mundane person, such potions are believed to have a use in improving mental acuity to some degree.

Mix it with a bit of shirin, and we stand to make an improved mana potion! Double the clarity, double the profit! But seriously, it may be worth while to head back to our half-elf alchemist freind and pick her brain over the shirin solution. After we commit to our main mission (after Yosef), of course.
>>
[Skipping morning update to await more votes. But hey--three updates yesterday!]
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>>4934732
>Pay Lord Isaac Yosef an overdue visit, to see what trouble he might be brewing
>Ask Irinnile what happened that night
We gotta know
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>>4934732
>Focus on the main mission—go check out the Engelson storehouses which host the excavated dwarven ruins for further clues

We put this off so much I get nervous about running into Roth
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>>4935146
Supporting
>>
>>4935533
>>4935161
>>4935146
>>4934760
The excavated materials will be there when you're ready to investigate them, you reason, but who knows what that wily old man Yosef is scheming? You decide to check on him and those damned glasses of his without further delay.

You find yourself missing the luxury of Edwin's carriage as you travel on foot across town to the manor of the Yosef family. Once there, you find security somewhat increased since your last visit, with two burly human men and midtoned complexion standing at the gate making conversation. Even in your simple green peasant dress, you draw their stares—probably because, thanks to Irinnile, everything you own is now tight in the chest. You’re actually considering siccing a tailor on some of them, though today you are able to use it to your advantage to quickly persuade one of the guards to fetch their master.

However, it is not Isaac Yosef they bring back, but a younger woman with black hair and green eyes. You're still only of recent familiarly with a wide range of human faces, but it doesn't take you ling to recognize the hardness in her stare, the frown-like turn of her lips at the corner, and the slight overhang to her nose as the features of the manor's lord in slighter and more feminine proportion.

“Lord Yossef'ss daughter, I pressume?” you ask.

“And who are you?” she asks, making no move to welcome you in.

“A friend of your father,” you say. “I'm here to visit.”

Something about you seems to trouble the woman—her face is stony, but her body language and her silence speak volumes. Perhaps she thinks you a solicitor, or a woman after the old widower's fortunes?

“Well,” she says eventually, “come in, I suppose.”

The gate part for you, and you step in, following Yosef's daughter into his home, up the stairs, and into his office. Unlike Fynn of Engel, it is a tremendously-impressive room of antiquity and import, full of elegant furnishings passed down through generations of the banking family and with a great stained-glass window depicting the victory against a dragon-led army which made the Yosef name and fortune. In the middle of it all is a chaos of papers, of notes and sketches, all of it fluttering with the rapid passes of the old man at its centre.
>>
>>4935626

“Miriam, ENOUGH!” he cries. “I'll hear no more of this contrarianism from you! Whatever YOU believe, this is the best opportunity that we'll ever have to PROVE it, to SHOW them, to—”

“Father,” his daughter says with a sigh. “We have company. Apparently.”

Lord Yosef stops short, looking up at you with half-recognition in his state of pique. As he relaxes, true understanding returns.

“Ah, you! You've heard as well, have you? About the Tower, the guards? They think it's rats, the fools, but with the glasses they'll SEE who's really to blame!”

Well, maybe not TRUE understanding…
What do you do?
>Embrace his enthusiasm to expose the Reptilian plot, and ask what his plan his
>Reveal that you are the one who was assaulted by the rats and provided the tale currently making the rounds, and tell him no Reptilians were involves
>Express doubt about the entire series of events altogether, calling it a false alarm
>Appeal to his paranoia, speculating that this could all be a Reptilian false flag to draw out those of inquiring minds and to eliminate them
>Express concern for his health—he looks flushed and is breathing with some difficulty
>Write-in
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>>4935634
>Appeal to his paranoia, speculating that this could all be a Reptilian false flag to draw out those of inquiring minds and to eliminate them
>Express concern for his health—he looks flushed and is breathing with some difficulty

You need to make sure you’re looking after yourself - the world can’t afford to lose you…
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>>4935634
>Embrace his enthusiasm to expose the Reptilian plot, and ask what his plan his
>Express concern for his health—he looks flushed and is breathing with some difficulty

Don't have a heart attack on me old man!
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>>4935645
This seems rad too!
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>>4935634
>Express doubt about the entire series of events altogether, calling it a false alarm
>Reveal that you are the one who was assaulted by the rats and provided the tale currently making the rounds, and tell him no Reptilians were involves
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>>4935847
>>4935650
>>4935645
[Concern for his health seems to be one preeminent vote, with a mixture of enthusiasm and feigned paranoia backing it up. Will wait to see if anyone breaks the tie, but otherwise, I'll post soon.]
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>>4935634
>Express concern for his health—he looks flushed and is breathing with some difficulty
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>>4935877
>>4935847
>>4935652
>>4935650

You step forward at almost the same time as this Miriam of his, and each of you takes one of the old lord’s arms and guides him to his seat behind his great, darkwood desk. Your eyes flit across his desk in momentary hope, but you see no sign of the illusion-eliminating glasses there.

“Careful, you old coot,” Miriam reprimands her father with merciless concern. “What do you think you’re doing?! You’re too old for… Whatever all this is!”

“Miriam, you have to understand… It’s our last chance! Our last and only chance to avenge your bother…”

Miriam’s face stiffens further, and she steps back, recoiling from Lord Yosef.

“Don’t you try to make this obsession of yours with picking at your wounds about him again, you old…”

She trails off, as if unable to finish. You take her place, gently rubbing his arm.

“Your daughter iss right, Lord Yosef.” He looks betrayed at the statement, cornered and angry, so you continue. “You need to make ssure you’re looking after yoursself. The world can’t afford to lose you…”

Miriam rolls her eyes.

“I’d be interessted to hear your planss, of coursse,” you continue, “But… Well, doessn’t the timing sstrike you as altogether too convenient?”

Lord Yosef narrows his eyes, taking out a cloth and polishing the sadly-mundane spectacles he’s wearing. He asks you to explain yourself.

“Well, I’ve of coursse been handing out and promoting your literature these lassst few weekss,” you lie, drawing an incensed and accusatory glare from his daughter. Of course, you haven’t been—you’ve stowed a bundle of his anti-Reptilian creed, published under a pseudonym, in your old apartment, and you’ve actively undermined its publication and the claims therein. Still, neither fo these two needs to know that.

You continue: “Jusst as I sseem to be gaining interesst… Well, what should ssupplant ‘Protocolss of the Learned Elders of the Coming Race’ in the Gray Presss and the public consciousssnessss but thiss bussinesss of ratss?”

Yosef nods along, understanding your implication. “You think… They… Are behind it?”
>>
>>4935913
Miriam scoffs. “Listen to yourselves! ‘They’. They the goddamned lizardmen, who can’t even build a proper shack on the coasts, who loot everything they own?”

“Their bloody paymasters!” her father scolds her. “You know well enough the distinction!”

“I know your delusion,” she spits back.

You aren’t sure whether to be annoyed at the young noblewoman’s interjections for interrupting the supple flow of your venomous deception, or to thank her for helping to discourage Yosef. The former seems more likely, though—each of her belittling accusations fills the old male with a contrarian determination, such that he stands up again and grab a handful of papers to shake at her meaningfully.

“There has been an occult disturbance in this city, tied to a series of related actors! The Paladins and the Tower hide something from us about their dealings, a project they have not shared with even me!”

“Maybe because they suspect you’ll work it into your next work of fiction,” Miriam mutters.

“Maybe because it involves THEM! If these rats are NOT Reptilian agents, then they are a distraction FROM them, or cover for their works.”

“Or a meanss to draw you out of hiding,” you note. “What exactly do you plan to do, Lord Yossef?”

“Not to hide,” he declares bravely, puffing up his old, hollow chest. “I’ll take the glasses to Tower. They may have all manner of mystical implements, but I’ve had time to do more research on the glasses. Glasses of Truesight are nothing for even the Archmage to scoff at. Armed with them, they’ll do more than detect and dispel illusions—they’ll see what lies beneath them! The true shape of a creature, of its wicked soul and its scaly underbelly!”

“What do you mean?” you ask warily. “I thought you ssaid to me when last we sspoke that the glasses would be lessss useful with lycanthropes and ssuch?”

“In the hands of a non-mage, this was true,” he acknowledges, before leaning forward conspiratorially. “But there is an enchantment which one may weave. I’m no sorcerer, but what I’ve read from the documents I acquired with them seems to suggest that it can be used to identify the residues of a shapeshifter’s magic.”


Well THAT’S not good news.

What do you do?
>Ask if the glasses are in safekeeping, and attempt to segue into offering storage through Engelson to keep them safe
>Attempt to dissuade Yosef from handing the glasses over to the authorities on the basis of their possible infiltration by Reptilians
>Attempt to learn more about their workings, so you can ‘help’ the cause—perhaps you could read those documents?
>Ask to speak with Miriam Yosef privately about the toll this is taking on her father, and discuss whether he can be kept at home for his own good
>Enough of this—shapeshift and let the demon loose on the dangerous meddler before he can do greater harm
>Write-in
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>>4935916
>Attempt to dissuade Yosef from handing the glasses over to the authorities on the basis of their possible infiltration by Reptilians
>Attempt to learn more about their workings, so you can ‘help’ the cause—perhaps you could read those documents?

I like this old man, and if his crackpot delusions are associated with the Reptilian conspiracy, all the better for us in the end.
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>>4935916
>Attempt to dissuade Yosef from handing the glasses over to the authorities on the basis of their possible infiltration by Reptilians
>Attempt to learn more about their workings, so you can ‘help’ the cause—perhaps you could read those documents?

Wasn't he just talking about how the Tower and Paladins were hiding things from him? Likely because of Reptilian infiltration? Is he sure the glasses won't be intercepted, stolen, or otherwise lost to evil?
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>>4935975
Supporting
>>
>>4936078
>>4935975
>>4935940
“Were you not jusst sspeaking of how the Tower and the Paladinss were hiding thingss?”

“Well, yes, but—” Yosef begins

“Likely becausse of Reptilian infiltration?”

His eyes widen, and he rubs his beard. “Well, not necessarily. I’m not some raving loon. It stands to reason the Tower has defences against something like that, and King Archos is beyond reproach.”

“And what about thosse who sserve them, work with them?” you press. “Are you ccertain that the glasssess won't be interccepted, sstolen, or otherwisse lossst to evil?”

Yosef says nothing, turning his back to you and to Miriam and staring at his appears as if trying to find an answer or a stratagem among his collected work of the last two-or-three decades.

“Perhapss I can help,” you offer, stepping closer. “If I could learn more of the workingss of the Glasssess of Truessight… perhaps read the documentss you sspeak of… Maybe I could help you to devise a plan to counteract Them?”

“Oh, this is absolute nonsense!” Miriam declares, throwing her hands up in the air. “You don’t think I see what you’re doing, girl?!”

“Girl?” you ask, just a little amused. She can’t be THAT much older than you. Se speaks like her father.

“You’re preying on an old man’s grief and loneliness, prying at his fingers and at his mind to snatch away his expensive magic items and his valuable scrolls. You’re a… A…”

“Miriam,” Lord Yosef warns, “she is a guest here.”

“She’s using you!” Miriam cries. “You just don’t see it because she looks so much like Mother!”

A long pause follows.

“Wh-what did you say?” Yosef asks softly.

“Oh please! Don’t play dumb, Father. You must see it.”

You step backwards a little, resisting the urge to reach for your hidden dagger as the pair of them—Lord Isaac Yosef, especially—scrutinize you.

“That has nothing to do with anything,” the lord dismisses the accusation.

“Father, you’re being a fool!”

Lord Yosef hunches his back and narrows his eyes, marching towards his office door and banging on it twice.

“Enough of this!” he hisses, and then bellows: “Callaghan!”

The old, well-dressed head servant of the household is quick to heed the call, bringing his bushy sideburns with him.

“I think my daughter is tired of her foolish old man,” he says flatly, before glancing at you. “And I have been given much to think about.”

What do you do?
>Take your leave—you have what you need for now
>Press on—insist that you can be useful to the old man, as a mage and a scholar of magic
>Show him the Serpent Priest staff--that should get his attention!
>Wield Irinnile's psychic powers to better understand what is motivating this sudden expulsion
>Allow yourself to be escorted out, but then sneak back in
>>
>>4936360
>Take your leave—you have what you need for now

Point out we haven't taken anything from him, except copies of his work to distribute, and we aren't asking to take anything either.
>>
>>4936360
>Wield Irinnile's psychic powers to better understand what is motivating this sudden expulsion
>>
>>4936360
>Take your leave—you have what you need for now

I didn't mean to cause any family drama with my presence, so I'll remove myself. I hope you both have a lovely day, and make sure you go out and smell the flowers sometimes, Yosef.
>>
>>4936360
>Apologize
The usual "didn't mean to cause you problems"
>Take your leave—you have what you need for now
>>
>>4936425
>>4936439
Supporting these two
>>
>>4936834
>>4936439
>>4936437
>>4936428
>>4936425
‘Well, this got awkward,’ Irinnile notes.

“I am ssorry,” you say. “Though I promisse, Miriam, I have taken nothing but copiess of your father'ss work to distribute.”

“Bad enough,” she says. “You shouldn't be encouraging this madness.”

Lord Yosef bites his tongue, but you can tell that the words, from, from his own child no less, wound him. These last decades , dedicated to a fruitless crusade, must have been full of such isolation. Still, he carries on. It is as admirable as it is dangerous.

“I do not plan to assk for anything elsse, either,” you assure him. “But pleasse, Lord Yossef… Sstep outsside and ssmell the flowerss. A persson can't live on vengeancce alone.”

“It has sustained me this long,” he says grimly. Miriam looks at him with a palpable sadness, though, and he adds: “But I will consider it.”

“I'll believe it when I see it,” Miriam says, turning on heel to leave.

You follow her out, Callaghan your polite but insistent chaperone. At the exit, you find to your surprise that the two gate-guardians are Miriam's men, not Lord Yosef's.

“Another evening here, Lady Vaz?” one asks her.

“Yes, Kristoff, please,” she replies. “Keep the old fool safe and sound, and keep an eye out for shady characters.”

Miriam Vaz, nee Yosef, shoots you a distrustful glare.

“Well, FURTHER shady characters.”

‘What a bitch,’ Irinnile silently snipes from within your head. ‘Kinda' hot, though.’

What do you do?
>Confront Miriam over her harsh treatment if you and her father, and ask why she's so adamantly against his theories
>Try to win Miriam's trust
>Leave, to go grab some lunch before work
>Attend to some other matter with the rest of your afternoon [what?]
>Write in
>>
>>4937049
>Try to win Miriam's trust

Literally doing our job for us. Though, you could try a little more honey to get him to calm down Miriam. Far be it for me to dictate your affairs though, never really knew my father.
>>
>>4937049
>Confront Miriam over her harsh treatment if you and her father, and ask why she's so adamantly against his theories

Bring up the other nonsense we've read at the Gray Press though, give off the impression we're easily influenced and readily buy into all sorts of crackpot theories.
>>
>>4937049
>Try to win Miriam's trust
>>
>>4937049
>Confront Miriam over her harsh treatment if you and her father, and ask why she's so adamantly against his theories

She's a regular human, no? Wouldn't it be easy to rape her brain and alter her behavior with Irinnile?
>>
>>4937547
I'd rather we restrain ourselves when it comes to using Irinnile for the moment. Plus, she's already keeping an eye and foiling Yosef and his designs. She's really more of an ally than a foe when it comes to containing Yosef's anti-reptilian ambitions. Why fix what isn't broken?
>>
>>4937552
Yeah like we're gonna have restraints when next big opportunity comes.
Wasn't dealing with Yosef one of your arguments for keeping Irinnile?
>>
>>4937560
Yes, but that was before his daughter put him on lockdown. I guess we could reinforce her impulse to control Yosef, but mindraping somebody in public, in front of her guards, when she isn't asleep? I don't know if we could pull that off without suspicion in broad daylight, and it still may backfire on us. It's probably better that we wait until night so we can use our dreamscape abilities to our best advantage.

Plus, we can still deal with the were-rats and Zivic with Irinnile.
>>
>>4937572
You took mindrape too literally and it was just a suggestion, not
>do it here, do it now
Changing her mind about his treatment would work better than just talking to her.
>>
>>4937049
>Leave, to go grab some lunch before work
>>
[Two to win over, two for confrontation, one for lunch. I'll wait a bit longer for the tie to break!]
>>
>>4937704
I (>>4937547) am willing to merge the two, honestly.
Ask why she's against his ideas, but try to win her trust. If that makes any sense.
>>
>>4937101
>>4937119
>>4937203
>>4937547
>>4937679
>>4937710
“You sseem very ccertain about the falssity of your father’ss beliefs,” you note.

“Where is that accent from?” Miriam asks.

“The provinccess, sslightly ssouth-easst of here,” you answer quickly. “But…”

“Yes, I am,” Mirmiam replies, just as quickly. “Anyone sensible would be.”

“But why?” you ask. Remembering Edwin’s counter-argument to you about the contents of Yosef’s book, you note: “There are many beasstmen who have ssuch powerss of illussion, yess? Who can even shift shape?”

“And if any came to Hawksong and began to undermine it, you think that one of the premier mages’ towers in all the land, backed by the PALADIN KING, wouldn’t root them out? Lizardmen and their kind don’t have the brains for anything subtle enough to elude the authorities here—that’s why they can’t ever muster a proper army without a dragon.”

You stifle your outrage, and nod along. “But—”

“No!” Miriam interrupts. “I’ve had this same discussion more times than I can count with that old man in there. I won’t have it again with… Whatever YOU are.”

“I… Ssuppose you might be right. But haven’t you read the sstoriess in The Gray press travelogues?? There are all ssortsss of dangerouss, myssteriouss beingss unknown to academia in hidden palcess! What about the ssavage tribe of brown elvess who have only daughterss? The pssychic goblinss of the deep desssert who ride about on antss? The women of the Wewowiun Plateau who birth bat-boyss?”
>>
>>4937739
You silently thank the fools at The Gray Press and at the adventurers’ bachelor party from a couple nights ago. Between the posters all over the offices of the former and the obsession with outlandish adventure stories among the latter, you are well-armed with other things a credulous ingenue might believe. Certainly, this litany of easily-debunked nonsense seems to elicit a sense of maternal pity from Yosef’s daughter.

‘Perhaps she’s not a schemer after all,’ you imagine the noblewoman thinks, ‘but just an idiot?’

“Look,” Lad Miram Vaz says aloud, “you can’t believe everything you read, just because it seems… Faintly possible, or exciting.”

“I don’t think that’ss why Lord Yossef believess in the Reptilianss,” you point out.

Miriams face scrunches up in an expression that mixes that same pity, mixed with years of anger and sadness, fomented into a sort of bitterness.

“No,” the noblewoman says, “he believes it because it’s easier than believing what really happened to Hirschel.”

“What really happened?” you ask.

Miriam shoots you another harsh look, making it clear without words that she will not discuss such painful memories with some random young woman. You take the hint.

“Neverthelessss,” you say. “Maybe… Go a little eassier on your father? He’ss not a fool, even if… maybe… he’ss not right about thiss ssubject. He honesstly meanss well.”

And, of course, a contrary man like him would probably be less dogged in his crusade if he didn’t feel it was the only way to earn back his family’s respect. Perhaps Miriam’s efforts to dissuade the old man from meddling in Reptilian affairs will be more successful with a gentler touch, doing your work for you! By making a show of being gradually convinced by her arguments, you help to reinforce the idea that Yosef, too, is not beyond her flawed idea of ‘rationality’.

Miriam looks at you strangely, and then shakes her head, but she smiles a little. “You really, really must remind father a lot of her. Of my mother, I mean, Heavens give her rest. I can see why he brought you in on his… Project.”

The Lady Vaz climbs into her carriage, and bids you a notably less angry farewell than you would have anticipated before your conversation.

‘Smooth,’ Irinnile compliments you.

You smile smugly, and make your own exit to go get a quick bite to eat at a food cart before work. The sun is still bright in the sky, now that summer proper is upon you, but you know it will begin to set with surprising speed, and dusk will bring your duties to The Pretty Kitty.

What else do you do?
>Take the long route to work, getting a feel for the atmosphere on the street
>Find some ‘food’ for Irinnile as well, to keep that <WANT> minimal
>Find somewhere quiet to meditate on the Serpent Priest staff and the Dark Gods
>Walk briskly to work, and catch up with the other dancers and prostitutes a bit before the main event
>Write-in
>>
>>4937742
>Find somewhere quiet to meditate on the Serpent Priest staff and the Dark Gods

seems like a good time
>>
>>4937777
>dem trips
A sign from the Dark Gods! I support wholeheartedly!
>>
>>4937742
>>4937777
+7
Quadss have sspoken. Let's inspect the staff.
And tell Irinnile to go shaft herself if she talks shit about omniserpents below and beyond.

>>4937793
What is this mammal math.
>>
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>>4937579
Ah, my bad. I thought that was an immediate action, not an idea for later.

>>4937803
Hey, it's way better that the 13 the Skaven worship.
>>
>>4937742
>Walk briskly to work, and catch up with the other dancers and prostitutes a bit before the main event
>>
>>4937814
>Hey, it's way better that the 13 the Skaven worship.
sorry, but what does this have to do with maths?
>>
>>4938235
What did my post before have to do with maths?

Funnily enough, I was one away from 13, but a duo of 7s ganged up on me at the last moment.
>>
>>4938240
Well, you said dem trips when it was quads and I just called that mammal math.
>>
>>4938250
Slip of the tongue (or fingers in this case).
>>
>>4938269
Slip of mind, even
>>
>>4938275
Wait a minute... Damnit Irinnile, not again!
>>
Rolled 8, 12, 17 = 37 (3d20)

>>4937777
>>4937793
>>4937803
>>4938184

[DC would normally be 15... But Quads net you -7. DC 8. Crit success at 16 or higher.]
>>
>>4938562
pog
>>
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>>4938562
You initially heads straight for The Pretty Kitty, musing over the idea of catching up with coworkers for some gossip and to strength your social ties. However, as you step briskly towards your destination, signs catch your eyes—both literal street signs and otherwise. A troupe of seven men, seven near-misses with careening carriages in seven crosswalks, and seven bird flying overhead in a victorious “V”. Augury and numerology are of course infinitely more basic and less reliable than the learned reading of the stars by a well-educated and ordain Serpent priest of the Dark Gods, but even so… They are no without significance.

‘Lispy, come on…’

You silence Irinnile’s sacrilege with a single thought, though you sense her INTENT to grumble beneath the mental quietude. The concealed staff grows heavy in your grip, with purpose and import. You ignore the succubus and heed the quadruple sevens, and take the side-streets until you find a quiet and shady place on the fringes of the Red Lantern District, a quick jaunt from work.

There, beneath the setting sun, you uncover the hooded head of the serpent staff. Its eyes—time-dulled gemstones—catch the light at obscure angles and glow as if lit from within. You bow before it almost instinctively, shutting your yes.

‘This is a bad idea,’ Irinnile says. ‘Trust me, it never does any good to have gods lookin’ at you too closely.’

‘You will be silent or you will be banished, IRINNILE,’ you reply sharply.

‘I hate when you sue my name like that, you know,’ she grouses. But still… She quiets again.

You take the time to find your centre, the core of yourself as a separate entity from the tainted surface-realm around you. Admittedly, your pet demon and the sense she’s lent you have been invaluable for training such spiritual awareness. You find a place of quiet contemplation amidst the material world’s noise quickly. As if slipping into a dreamscape, you slip into the aether between spaces. Like a snake shedding her skin, you abandon your body for a moment. Irinnile floats alongside you, a small red sprite, as if cowed by the magnitude of that which you approach and trying to hide… But unwilling, or unable, to leave your side.

The staff towers before you in this realm, standing as if under its own power. In material reality, you know your hand still holds it straight and steady. The Serpent priest staff is in your vision, however, a pillar of the world, connecting deepest recesses of the earth to the furthest darkness beyond the stars, beyond and behind time and space. And still, those eyes glow, as if judging, as if contemplating all that they behold…
>>
>>4938586
>17

They behold you. Two twin beams of light shine forth and cross upon you and your whimpering, impish succubus associate. You cower too—how could you not—but not for long.

“STAND”

You vibrate with that single word, and tremblingly ascend to full attention.

“You have brought us our lost serpent. Our long-abandoned boon. You have hidden away our truth from unworthy eyes. You have advanced our cause in light of… Heretical insinuations.”

The lights seem to zero in on Irinnile especially, who falls prostrate upon the ground as if she’d like to stop existing altogether. Perhaps she will, you realize.

“We have a task for you,” the great voice says—less a sound, more a sensation, animating you as surely as breath, or heat, or thought.

You feel buoyed by the declaration, as if a dead body filled with living soul for the first time—like a being of directed divine creation, without tainted mother or accursed mammalian father.

“Yes,” you agree, unnecessarily. How could you ever refuse? What pathetic creature would refuse? What foolish creature would DARE? “Yes, of course, masters!”

“We have a boon for you.”

You cannot help but tear up, but weep with fear and adulation. A boon? From the Dark Gods? For a Degenerate?

The task will be what it will be—there is no negotiation. But the boon… You sense you have a choice here.

What will it be?
>CONTROL—the utter subjugation of Irinnile, and your own weakness
>STRENGTH—enhanced mastery of the physical arts, and resilience
>UNDERSTANDING—strengthened connection to the mystic arts, especially those of the far realms
>ACCEPTANCE—the erosion of your human half, to make way for your truer, Reptilian self
>SECRETS—the knowledge of hidden treasures and truths, both great and terrible
>Write-in
>>
>>4938587
>UNDERSTANDING—strengthened connection to the mystic arts, especially those of the far realms

Make sure Irinille knows we could have owned her like a thing and chose not to.
>>
>>4938587
>SECRETS—the knowledge of hidden treasures and truths, both great and terrible

What does the mystery box contain…
>>
>>4938587
>SECRETS—the knowledge of hidden treasures and truths, both great and terrible
Let's go mad from the revelation. Eldritch shit always more than welcome.

But not because it's a mystery box.
>>
>>4938587
>STRENGTH—enhanced mastery of the physical arts, and resilience
>>
>>4939116
>>4938935
>>4938727
>>4938619
“Remember, Irinnile,” you proclaim, “I could have OWNED you this day, like a thing. I chose not to.”

“Lispy, what are you—”

You ignore the pitiful demon, turning your attention back to the towering columnar cobra that speaks to you with the voice of a god. It looms like the very canopy of stars, so massive and so high above the buildings of Hawksong as to render them pathetic huts and cottages.

“Please, oh Gods of Darkness and the Light Beyond Darkness, of Spaces and Things Unknown, or my Ancestors and Brethren…”

>SECRETS

“Give me secrets known only to the worthy, hidden beneath and beyond the reach of the fool and the weakling!”

The great snake begins to rocks back and forth, and then to sway. Its base melts and expands downwards, and slithers towards you as if a great tail. It grabs you about the waist. Irinnile screeches in fright and leaps away, watching with wide eyes full of air—or awe?—as the avatar of your god lifts you high into the air.

“You ask much, for a half-breed of your kind,” the voice intones. It is less a bellow, but no less a force. The vibrations are simply more intimate, more localized to your own skull rather than shaking the earth below you.

You begin to apologize, but you understand without knowing why that you should stop.

“Such creatures have been ever useful to us,” comes a proclamation that fills you with utmost pride and happiness. You? Your filthy half-human self, useful? And not just to the cause, but to a very GOD?

“Become still more useful,” the god’s voice commands, and the maw of the great snake opens wide. You feel fear swallow you whole, as the serpentine jaws are sure to also swallow you, but… No. The snake continues to open downwards along its belly, as if a woman opening a gown. What is exposed beneath is no mere flesh, though, but constellations of points in space and time: histories and mysteries beyond the understanding of any human, beyond even most Reptilians, perhaps going deeper than even a demon could delve. It is overwhelming to behold, and for all its difficulty to take it all in, you cannot help but do so. It is as if the full cornucopia of knowledge has been dumped into your skull.

You scream.

Irinnile cries out to you, but whatever nonsense she is shouting, you do not hear her. You do not hear your title of Infiltrator, your cheekily-assigned nickname of “Lispy”, nor even your human pseudonyms. You hear a new name, a name that you understand intuitively is your true name, the name you were given before your hatching, before your egg’s laying, before your conception, spoken in whispers that were never meant to be heard by any living thing in the material realm. The name of your destiny. It is the name by which the Gods know you.

Then comes the task, the great work assigned by the Dark Gods to you:

“AVENGE THE GREAT GREEN DRAGON,” God commands, “AND DESTROY THE BLOODLINE OF YOSEF”
>>
>>4939118
You awaken in the alley, and the serpent staff is still held in your clutches. You are beaded with sweat—maybe the first and only time you have ever actually perspired. Your mind is swimming, but still, you recall your hidden name… And one of the names of the Gods, to call upon but once. So too do you have an intuitive knowledge now of… Something. A record, stored just beyond seeing, beyond sensing, of the deeds done in the name of the Dark Gods, which is now open to you.

>ACQUIRED: Akashic Record of the Dark Gods—You may enter a trance to seek knowledge on any subject related to the doings of the gods or their agents in an area, though exact details may be hazy if you are not specific, or if a great deal of time has passed. This can be used to learn more about events, successes and failures, hidden caches of treasure, and to even draw upon the skillsets of a past operative
>ACQUIRED: Divine Favour—one time only, you may directly invoke a Dark God to intervene on your behalf

The sun is setting fast now. You bundle up the staff with shaking hands.

‘Lispy, are you alright?’ Irinnile quietly asks. ‘That was…’

‘Do you believe now, Irinnile?’ you ask.

Irinnile goes silent. You sense disapproval, though, and trepidation. Good enough-if she will not worship in love, she will kowtow in terror. Terror of the gods—terror of you!

…But for now, there is work to be done, both in service to the Dark Gods, and in service to The Pretty Kitty.

What do you do?
>Go to work at The Pretty Kitty, as you still have a cover identity to maintain
>Skip work at TPK to go see Roth and begin conspiring against the House of Yosef
>Return to the Yosef estate to execute the command most literally and brutally
>Access the Akashic Record to seek out something specific in or around Hawksong
>Write-in
>>
>>4939120
>Go to work at The Pretty Kitty, as you still have a cover identity to maintain

Sempai noticed us! I will cherish [Divine Favour] for the rest of my life!

We'll make a first offensive in the dreamscape, against Miriam and Yosef. Make the younger lust for us, and the other paranoid that the Tower is infiltrated by reptilian agents. We'll plan out our angle of attack from there.
>>
>>4939120
>Go to work at The Pretty Kitty, as you still have a cover identity to maintain

Alright before we didn't think it was serious, but now it's a direct command from the divine. Time to kill those two.

>>4939155
Seems a bit unnecessary? It's an old man and young woman. I figure we should just pick up some wererat fur, go kill them both, and scatter the fur around to implicate our favorite scapegoat.

Oh, and steal a bunch of shit including those glasses.
>>
>>4939162
I mean, if you think simply killing them in a staged were-rat attack will avenge the green dragon slain, sure. I think style points will impress the Dark Gods more though, have the Yosef's bloodline committed to their disgrace and doom before they realize that they made a fatal mistake, maybe a cheesy reveal at the end to taunt them, like in those Grey Press adventure stories. Seems a bit bland if we just off them in a staged were-rat attack. This was a mission given to us directly by our Dark Gods after all, so the destruction of a bloodline should at least be entertaining to them.

Those are my thoughts, at least. I'll go with whatever the majority decides.
>>
>>4939120
>Go to work at The Pretty Kitty, as you still have a cover identity to maintain

>>4939155
>>4939162
Hold up a sec. Are we sure Miriam and Yosef are the only remaining people of their bloodline? I no longer remember.
>>
>>4939199
It'll be smart to check their family tree.
>>
>>4939199
I think so, unless Miriam has a kid
>>
>>4939120
>Return to the Yosef estate to execute the command most literally and brutally
>>
>>4939221
>>4939223
Guess we're figuring out all the members of their family first. Could find the place where the other operative killed his son and use the Akashic Record to find out what she knew. But gotta ask where it happened, first... or better yet use the succ to invade Yosef's mind at night.

Also, those glasses we confiscated... we should find and tag a wererat with them. That way we can find their new hideout and raid Leo at our convenience.

And that all being said, let's not forget about the Tower. Might wanna get more intel before the Gala and definetly remove Irinnile or we'll be fucked by their demown detectors.
>>
>>4939155
Supporting this.

Target the girl first - once enthralled by us she can give us info on their family tree.

The old man likely has mental defences still, so we should be wary around him.
>>
>>4939725
>>4939285
>>4939199
>>4939162
>>4939155

Your mind races in place like a pitiful-but-delicious food-rodent on an exercise wheel. There is much to consider—are there out Yosefs to worry about? Miriam was called Lady Vaz by her hirelings… Jas she married? Does she have offspring to assassinate as well? Perhaps the Akashic Record or some dream-delving could clear it up… Or maybe Roth (or the book of operative names and dates you confiscated from him during his imprisonment by Boss Leo) could prove useful?

Still, though you be gifted with Divine Favour and burdened with most glorious purpose, you also have a cover to maintain. You hurry on to The Pretty Kitty. You are so distracted by your whirling thoughts that you hardly even register your body as you automatically get changed into your Kamunu attire. Only when Mina snarls your pseudonym in annoyance, within the smokey confines of the cat-woman's office, do you remember who and where you are.

“Ssorry,” you say. “You were ssaying…?”

“We have a couple possible jobs for you tonight,” she says. “One is a guardsman’s party at a pub across town. No wetwork, probably, unless they press; if so, discretion is a MUST.”

‘Ooo, spicy. I love eating a man in uniform!’

Irinnile's quip is the first she's piped up since the visitation by your most holy masters. Her humour still feels strained, forced. You ignore her, asking Mina: “And the other?”

“A nobleman's birthday. Probable wetwork. Has a reputation for… Kink. You can refuse anything extreme, but you damned well better do so politely. He also had a reputation for being… Testy. Bug spender, though.”

Which job do you take?
>the just for the city guards
>the job for the nobleman
>you're too distracted and you have no time for these endeavors tonight--you'd rather just dance
>Write-in
>>
>>4939972
>the just for the city guards

a little energy from everyone makes irinnile a happy succ

also I don't want to be paid in bugs
>>
>>4939972
>>4940010
*job for the city guards
*big spender

Oops.
>>
>>4939972
>the job for the nobleman
>>
>>4939972
>the job for the nobleman

I just remembered that Mina was acting strangely. Shall we invade her slumber too?
>>
>>4939972
>the just for the city guards
We can find out if they’ve heard about an investigator from the Tower being ‘mugged’ recently…
>>
>>4940341
Not sure that a Tower mage would report such thing to the guard.
>>
>>4940322
+1 on invading Mina’s slumber.
>>
>>4940341
>>4940322
>>4940010
>>4940175

[Tie game, eh? I'll be pretty busy today, but will endeavour to post at least once.]
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4940558
[1 for guards, 2 for nobleman]
>>
>>4940756
You think over the two proposed jobs, but your mind is ultimately still elsewhere. You toy with the notion of using the nobleman as an inroad for shirin distribution, but you have other means to approach this, no immediate need for his finances, and frankly he sounds too high-maintenance for your distracted mood tonight.

“The City Guardss ssound like a good time,” you say.

“Alright,” Mina says. “Pick a girl or two—you’re in charge. Whoever’s left over can take point with ‘Lord Particular’.”

Who do you bring? (pick up to two; the twins cannot be separated, and so count as one)
>Helga Warchest, the sapphic and protective dwarf with a penchant for business
>Grendelia, the six-foot-something soft-spoken quarter-orc
>Manuela LaPert, the bouncy and rambunctious halfling with a notable libido
>Red Annie, the red-headed, foul-mouthed, nautically-themed dock wench
>Tricia and Alicia, the near-silent and oddly-elegant twin dancers
>Robin, a chubby dark-haired young prostitute with beginner dance experience
>Vivian, a somewhat slow-witted young prostitute with beginner dance experience

Your Serpent Priest staff is both a conspicuous stolen item AND too large to easily stow in your pack. You’ve been carrying it like a walking-stick all this time, but do you really wish to bring it to a den of mammalian law-enforcement officials?
>Yes—this sacred relic will not leave your sight
>No, you’ll stow it in your old room for now
>Write-in

And while you’re preparing, what exactly are your plans for this job?
>Get in, get paid, get out—you have bigger fish to fry tonight
>Get to know your colleagues
>Make some connections in local law enforcement, and try to get a feel for what’s been going on in the investigations round town
>Deal shirin—it ain’t illegal!
>Write-in
>>
>>4940776
>Manuela LaPert, the bouncy and rambunctious halfling with a notable libido

Incase has taught me this is the optimal choice

>Yes—this sacred relic will not leave your sight

>Make some connections in local law enforcement, and try to get a feel for what’s been going on in the investigations round town
>>
>>4940776
>Helga Warchest, the sapphic and protective dwarf with a penchant for business
>Robin, a chubby dark-haired young prostitute with beginner dance experience
Let's get to know Robin. Also grab Helga cause she's an absolute unit.

>No, you’ll stow it in your old room for now
Make sure to hide it and lock the room. If our old one doesn't have a locked door, ask Mina for some place to lock our staff... stuff in.

>Get to know your colleagues
>Try to get a feel for what’s been going on in the investigations round town
Maybe it's better if we don't try to make any actual connections at the city guard. Last thing we need is a guard recognizing us in a wrong place at a wrong time... oh right, and I hope those guys who we gave the wrong address won't be at the pub or we're screwed.
>>
>>4940776
>Tricia and Alicia, the near-silent and oddly-elegant twin dancers


>Deal shirin—it ain’t illegal!
>>
>>4941048
Supporting
>>
>>4940558
>>4940756
Oh shit, I didn’t mean for there to be a tie, I meant I wanted to include the Mina’s slumber idea. I’m not mad or really picky about it, I’m just sorry for causing the inconvenience.

>>4940776
>Helga Warchest, the sapphic and protective dwarf with a penchant for business
>Robin, a chubby dark-haired young prostitute with beginner dance experience

Would choose Manuela instead of Robin, but I don’t want to divide the vote, and Manuela would probably appreciate the Noble job more.

>No, you’ll stow it in your old room for now

Even if it pains me to do so.

>Get to know your colleagues
>Make some connections in local law enforcement, and try to get a feel for what’s been going on in the investigations round town
>>
>>4941560
>>4941152
>>4941113
>>4941048
>>4940932
You choose Helga and Robin to accompany you to this guardsman's party. Madam Mina doesn't question your decision, implicitly trusting you to manage the situation without too much supervision—quite the vote on confidence! Or are these missions some sort of test? You make a mental note to pop by the cat-woman's dreamscape at some point.

While Mina is giving marching orders—apparently Manuela will be ‘handling’ the nobleman—you are searching for a good hiding place for your Serpent Priest staff. Your old room here lacks a lock on the door (or at least, lacks any lock worth mentioning), but Mina offers her assurances that nobody would dare steal from under her nose. You're perhaps less confident, but you also have limited options. It's just not practical to bring the holy relic with you.

There is no carriage awaiting when you regroup with Helga and Robin—seems the guardsmen cheaped out on thatfront. Helga is in her dancing outfit as well, but wears a baggy tartan overcoat and has the fake beard she wears as part of her gimmick tucked under one of her muscular arms; you smile and nod, less to her and more to yourself for the wisdom of having chosen the dwarf as a part of your unit.

Robin looks somewhat more awkward, wearing one of the fluffy-collared jackets kept around for the working girls. For your mostly-ectothermic self, that would be fine even in this weather, but you can tell Robin is already warm. Along the walk, though, you learn that she has followed lead and Helga's: she has worn ‘working clothes' under it, and taking it off would reveal enough frills, lace, and pale skin to make her profession obvious.

The walk over also reveals a bit more about Robin as an individual. The slightly-overfed female is somewhat nervous about dance and uncertain around less-direct seduction and entertainment. She doesn't even have a stage gimmick or alias! However, she seems a bit more confident in her area of expertise—the actual prostitution—and excited about tutelage in these other arts by you, especially after seeing you dance last night.

Helga throws a few pointers her way as to how to use a bit of weight and curviness to accentuate and spice up a dance routine. You can by how readily Robin nods along and recites back the advice that Helga has taken up a dominant position among the younger, newer dancers in your absence.
>>
>>4941772
You all arrive at the rented-out bar where the civic officials of Hawksong's much-renowned law and order are already filling the available seats and then some. The occasion seems to be some sort of professional meeting, though there is a somewhat unprofessional amount of alcohol being poured and drank. By your own presence and that of your colleagues, you can also guess it’s not an official function.

“Hey, they sent the magic one! Ha, boys, you're in for a treat tonight!”

It seems your presence had been noted. By the slurred voice, you immediately peg it as the city guardsman who perpetually frequents your workplace. He seems no more sober in this place, surrounded by colleagues. You scan the crowd for other familiar faces, spotting the two guardsmen you encountered at your apartment two days ago. Your heart quickens a little as you wonder if they have yet uncovered your little deception about your address, and you avert your gaze.

Eventualy, someone takes the stage, but it’s not you or your entourage. It's an older male, one of the few men here in full patrol uniform with chestplate, helm, and his sword on belt. Though it would be a stretch to say that the crowd goes silent, the other guardsmen quiet down at least somewhat.

“I know it's been a hard few weeks,” the guard on the stage begins. “People are in a frenzy. They want results. They want… Wererats, sometimes, if you can believe it!”

Laughter rises from much of the room, but not all thr guards seems so amused. Some sip their drinks or mutter side commentary. Some plainly take the werrerat threat seriously.

“Tonight,” the man on stage declares, plainly posseased of some authority, “Isn't to gripe about the Tower and Paladins, or to chase phantom wererats. It's to relax—and why not? We've earned it!”

Now THAT statement elicits a full-throated hurrah from all assembled, and raised glasses in all corners.

What do you do?
>Ply the drunk guard who frequents TPK for more info on the wererat and Zivic invstigations
>Stir up mofe rumours and paranoia among the guards about wererats
>Capitalize on the annoyance some seem to gave for the Tower Inquisiton and Paladins to create mistrust
>Target the head: to speak with the man coming down from the stage to get more intel and build influence
>Write-in
>>
>>4941774
>Ply the drunk guard who frequents TPK for more info on the wererat and Zivic invstigations
Kamunu's #1 fan here, might as well acknowledge his admiration and extract intel.
>Capitalize on the annoyance some seem to have for the Tower Inquisiton and Paladins to create mistrust
>Avoid showing our face to the two guards who we met before
If possible.

Maybe we should actually confront those two after the party? Make up an excuse for our dodginess before and answer the questions they might have. It's not very surprising that a working girl would be scared upon hearing there was a stalker in her old apartment and not want to outright say where she lives in case someone was listening, right?
>>
>>4941774
>Capitalize on the annoyance some seem to gave for the Tower Inquisiton and Paladins to create mistrust
>Target the head: to speak with the man coming down from the stage to get more intel and build influence
>>
>>4941774
>Stir up mofe rumours and paranoia among the guards about wererats

heheheh
>>
>>4942040
>>4941875
>>4941832
This particular Pretty Kitty excursion proves a remarkable opportunity in many capacities, but also a danger. To make the best sue of the former, you decide that you must mitigate the latter by avoiding the two guardsmen who you have already overtly lied to and who might recognize you. So too does it seem a potentially-risky move to approach the seemingly well-respected and well-connected human who gave the speech, where all eyes will be on you. Instead, you join a table of guardsmen who seemed least-amused by the rumours of wererats… And thus most likely to entertain the notion of a wide-ranged sewer-dwelling therianthrope conspiracy.

Of course, you also have a vested interest in keeping your fellow exotic dancers at ease, lest their morale suffer or (worst of all possibilities) they start to worry after Estellia again and draw these two aspects of your life closer together. As such, you sit down and, rather than actively insinuating anything, simply ask the males in various leading ways as to what they think of the matter.

“You really think it’ss… Wereratss?” you ask, not dismissing it out-of-hand but keeping a veneer of skepticism.

“I’m just saying,” one of them replies, leaning in closer as if afraid of being overhead. “I’ve seen stuff on my patrols.”

“Me too,” another guard chimes in. “My cousin is a lantern-man and he swears someone’s been snuffing out the lights as he goes, leaving areas dark. One night I’m patrolling around, and I swear I saw someone half-way up a lantern post. I shout at him ‘halt!’, and he scampered down—SCAMPERED—head-first and jumped over a bridge.”

Helga just keeps her face straight and nods along politely at the tall tale, but you can see Robin is both fascinated and clearly alarmed by the story. You know from your own experiences that it’s quite likely a true event, at least in broad strokes.

“Have other… Bodiess… Been found?”

This gets even Helga’s attention, and the guards exchange glances.

“Not as such, no, not since… The one. Nobody we can say for sure. But there were some men and women months back who we found. We thought…"
>>
>>4942235

The other guards glare at him, silencing him with a look. They clearly mean to protect your sensitive, womanly sensibilities, whatever sort of less-than-ladylike woman you might be. They may not be far-off, for Robin looks pale as a sheet. Still it is she who says:

“Come on, go on!”

“…We thought it musta’ been dogs that got them. Always one area of town. But…. No valuables on them, either. And no signs of savage dogs.”

“But not anymore?” Robin asks, hopefully. “It’s over?”

“Well, not much activity lately, no. But maybe they’ve gone to ground, you know? I mean, the Tower is sniffing around, and the Paladins are as subtle as a battering ram. The whole thing isn’t exactly low-profile with pointy caps and bird-cats everywhere.”

“Musst make it difficult for the men-on-the-ground like you boys to invesstigate,” you acknwoeldge sympathetically.

That gets a chorus of hear-hears, and drinks bought for you and the girls. Helga downs hers almost immediately, but makes an excuse to leave for another table, clearly put off by the subject of discussion. Robin cozies up to one especially-attentive guard for comfort and additional drinks—quick learner—and presses onwards:

“But they also have, like… The resources, right?” she asks.

“Ha!” says one grizzled veteran of the patrol-force. “Yeah, they do have that going for ‘em. Imagine what WE could do with proper investigating abilities and all that gold to back us up?”

“Well, it’d ccertainly be a big embarrassssment for those fanccy bigwigss to get shown up by uss reglar folkss, wouldn’t it?” you muse. “Musst be why they aren’t letting the City Guard really do their job… I mean, not as well as you could, with the proper support you desserve.”

“This girl knows what’s up!” one guard says, pulling you into his lap. Agreement rises from every quarter, and the conversation increasingly centres on the exaggerated corruption, incompetence, and arrogance of the upper crust. Many a drink is purchased for you; you sip them gingerly or ply them off on Robin, who is fairly inebriated and mostly-undressed by the time it comes for you two to regroup with Helga and to dance.

Of course… You still don’t want to be recognized. That could be an issue. How do you get around it?
>Let Helga and Robin go up, and hang back
>Use illusion and glamour to hide your face as much as possible
>Have Irinnile shapeshift you a desert princess-appropriate face-veil for the performance
>Trust that distance, context, and alcohol will render you unrecognizable from a brief encounter, and dance as normal
>Write-in
>>
>>4942238
>Use illusion and glamour to hide your face as much as possible

Already part of our act, not sus
>>
>>4942238
>Use illusion and glamour to hide your face as much as possible
>Have Irinnile shapeshift you a desert princess-appropriate face-veil for the performance
>>
>>4942238
>Have Irinnile shapeshift you a desert princess-appropriate face-veil for the performance

Can we try creating elaborate illusions like the veil ourselves?
>>
>>4942238
>Trust that distance, context, and alcohol will render you unrecognizable from a brief encounter, and dance as normal
>>
Rolled 8, 13, 12, 10 = 43 (4d20)

>>4942278
>>4942293
>>4942459
>>4942691
[4d20 for illusory disguise, DC 17; if failed, the last d20 is a DC 12 occult add-on for Irinnile's boost, with only DC 10 to control her. WANT will only go up if the first 4 fail and last succeeds.]
>>
Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>4942840
[Woops, forgot the occult die!]
>>
>>4942841
>>4942840
You—the star of the show these days, by all accounts—can hardly no-show for your big number! However, you don’t entirely trust your Kamunu identity to grant you distance from your other identities. You decide to weave yourself an illusory mask, fitting for a desert princess like Kamunu herself.

‘That’s a little different than your lightshows and shadowplay, hotstuff,’ Irinnile comments with bemused skepticism.

You resolve to attempt anyway, still worried about overreliance on the demon’s costly gifts and not yet willing to fully embrace her as a part of you. What if it’s irreversible? What if it offends your Dark Gods?

You and the other girls take to the stage, with you at the centre of a victorious V formation. A whoop goes up from the crowd—well, mainly your drunk guardsman regular, but the others join in soon enough. As you lift you hand high and bring it down in a cascade of ricocheting light, all eyes are on you. Helga rolls with it, cracking her neck slightly, donning her fake beard, and pulling her low-cut dress to show off her freckled ‘warchest’. Robin stumbles slightly and adjusts her disheveleld dress up, hiccupping quietly. You exchange a quick glance with the dwarf, worried for the calibre of your performance given Robin’s inexperience and level of inebriation… But still, the show must go on!

Your muted anxieties about Irinnile and Robin both prove too much of a distraction for you to effectively cast the spell, alas. At several point, you draw fingers across your lips as if to wreathe them in the rainbow light which flashes from your fingers, but it never remans for long. Even letting Irinnile peek out of her psychic enclosure proves insufficient—she would need to shape your flesh to do so, and it is too difficult to affect such a dramatic change mid-dance without a mid-point more akin to body horror than erotica. You settle for letting you hair hang low, and turning your back to the audience. As you roll your hips with sensuous skill—a mix of your own growing experience and Irinnile’s subconscious pointers as a being of pure desire—you find little complaint.
>>
>>4942862

Still, the entire experience wounds your professional pride—your sense of superior, Reptilian mastery. It is a silly notion, you realize, but as you leave the stage with a low bow and a subtle emphasizing of your cleavage for a last shower of coinage, you cannot help but feel you could have done better.

What do you do?
>Encore! You’ll go on alone, let the demon loose—within reason, reminding her of what she owes to you—and wow the audience!
>Chastise Robin, and take out your frustrations by bullying a young human woman—it’s always made you feel better in the past
>Meditate on the experience, and practice your magic further
>Discuss a more intimate union with Irinnile—though not necessarily commit to one, yet
>Do some shirin and have some hard liquor to take the edge off
>Leave—you’ve done your duty to madam Mina, and you’re done with this place
>Write-in
>>
>>4942864
>Do some shirin and have some hard liquor to take the edge off

drugs always make us feel better
>>
>>4942864
>Meditate on the experience, and practice your magic further
>Discuss a more intimate union with Irinnile—though not necessarily commit to one, yet

Talking if fine. We doing a second preformance with the gals right?
>>
>>4942864
>Do some shirin and have some hard liquor to take the edge off
>>
>>4942864
>Encore! You’ll go on alone, let the demon loose—within reason, reminding her of what she owes to you—and wow the audience!
>>
Rolled 4, 8 = 12 (2d20)

>>4943418
>>4943126
>>4943112
>>4942975
[One die for constitution, one for willpower/restraint; DC 12 and 10]
>>
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>>4943459
Shirin has always helped clear your mind! You rummage around in your bag, fishing out the small pouch of the stuff you still have. You lip your finger and dip it inside, fishing it back out overed in the white powder. With no small eagerness, you suckle it from your finger, and await the pleasant vibrations. Impatient with their slow onset, you take a little bit more—perhaps your tolerance ahs simply increased?

(You wouldn’t realize until the next day that, alas, it had not.)


Eventually, the high hits you and lifts you up and away from your embarrassment. You mingle with your admirers, letting their crude flattery further boost your ego. You imagine yourself, in unusually vivid detail, as Kamunu: princess of a small army of well-oiled desert legionaries. The guardsmen make a poor substitute, admittedly, but there are a few strapping young men amidst the portly and old, and the uniforms DO look nice. Perhaps you’ll employ a few as a ‘personal guard’ when you’re running this place?

For now, you decide to take the guardsman up on some of those free drinks, though you insist upon the hard alcohol—none of that disgusting, undistilled fermented grain nonsense for Princess Kamunu! They ply you and the other girls with several, though Robin in particular is looking woozy, and perhaps like she should go home rather than do another dance. The guards keep offering, though, and giggling and slurring, she accepts. It isn't until Helga intervenes, politely but firmly, that they back off.

‘Let it never be said you don’t know how to have fun, Lispy,’ Irinnile admits, though her voice is muffled beyond the hazy barrier of your good time. ‘Ooo, that one’s getting a little handsy!’

Indeed, a couple of the guards see fit to paw at you, stealing squeezes of your rear and brushes across your bare skin with rough hands. Strong hands, too… But in addition to the fact that you think Mina tasked you with discretion, and the fact that you’re playing host to a deadly succubus, they didn’t ask permission or offer coin… though one does offer to buy you more drinks and take things somewhere more private.

In a moment of brief lucidity between a surge of succubus-lust, the swell of shirin-confidence, and the nadir of your inhibitions, you realize that you are quite high and drunk… But the moment passes

What do you do?
>Take the guard enthusiastically up on his offer
>Strike his for his impudence—he dares to touch a princess so?!
>Keep the party rolling with some drinks and shirin on your dime for the table
>Return to the stage—you have a lot of pent-up energy, and it’s time for your encore!
>Stumble outside to regain your cool [DC 12 willpower roll to take this lucid action]
>Write-in
>>
>>4943480
>Stumble outside to regain your cool [DC 12 willpower roll to take this lucid action]

After all our recent failures this roll has to pass

right?
>>
>>4943480
>Stumble outside to regain your cool [DC 12 willpower roll to take this lucid action]

Talking would've been better than this mess, and this only reminds me of the time we got possessed by Irinnile. Is this a running theme for our parties?
>>
>>4943480
>Stumble outside to regain your cool [DC 12 willpower roll to take this lucid action]
every damn time

>>4943516
I should've been around to vote, fuck.