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@Nanaya@Sifr@Estylwen@Psyker Landshark@AThousandCurses
Took liberties with costuming. Was hoping to actually get something like this done during Christmas, but alas, why art when I can watch Youtube videos instead.

Is it possible to join this RP?

I am not sure I can find the time, but I am willing to put a few of my other commitments on hiatus (nothing I am GMing, though) to play this. Is that okay?



Yes. 😁

Also, come on over to Discord if you have one. Most of the OOC and musing takes place there. Just ask @BrokenPromise for an invite link.

@SifrEy, just letting you know that the picture you used for Hildegunde is dead now.
Yote.


Just to confirm, but is Elys expecting a response from this individual, or is she saying this and then moving on, kinda like, doing this 'I see you' thing to everyone?


Honestly, it was a pretty good ending for all involved. Spades somehow managed to get friendly with Angel, all the Weretigers were taken care of, the casino will probably be closed for the forseeable future, the human-trafficking victims were all safely secured, and now, the ace of the GEMINI branch in Pax Septimus was back in action.

Which was kinda weird, because while Estelle certainly wasn't a pessimist, she hadn't really expected Binky to just be...alright. What was the point of kidnapping and holding her there, if they didn't have a single underground guard? Were they just really lucky, having come in at a time when the casinos were lightly staffed? Why was the grimoire just lying in that locker there, rather than having been tossed somewhere like, oh she didn't know, the bottom of the ocean? Why was Binky even alive, if she was so scary to begin with?

"Huh."

Then, the biggest oddpoint stuck out, as she turned to her fellow operators.

"Tony's still at large, isn't he? Wonder where'd be more important than like, guarding Binky."
And there.

Also, probably a fusion of the worst aspects of Otis and Hildegunde in here keke.


“Show me wonders of this world.”

...

When the students of Classroom 104 returned from their own ventures inside Ascendia, they would snap back to reality to find a door standing eerily beside the window. The door’s knob rattled, turned, and then swung open, briefly revealing a space of swirling stars and invented curiousities before three individuals emerged from it. One was the paladin, the raw power of the divine still leaking off her form. The other was the Strigidae, that cold-eyed arbiter who had stood upon the stage just yesterday, who decided their fates. And the third?

Hauled behind Otis Tan Arillo was a buffoon wrapped in chains, shivering in what could only be described as abject terror from the mental torments that the Paladin and Strigidae no doubt put him through. But clearly, there was nothing wrong enough about this for the professor to intervene, and instead, it was Otis who spoke up first, his voice ringing clearly.

“This person here was found while tracing the leyline that you all consumed in order to reach Ascendia. Did any of you see or sense his presence in there?”

Just a simple, clear question, and one that, once answered, prompted no further reaction from Otis as he continued to drag Davil out of the classroom. There was no sign, indeed, that the chains he caught his roommate in were going to be dispelled. No sign, even, that he would bring Davil over to the clinic.

Rather, he re-entered Classroom 103, significantly more empty now. Rio was gone, and Chloe too. Wasn’t a surprise that Ciara was gone, and as such, Hildegunde being gone wasn’t unquestionable either.

“I found him.” Otis gestured towards Davil. There was no sense of smugness in the way the amber-eyed savant did this, but there was a sense of demand, a scientific curiosity aflame. “Instructor Alto, this is interesting to me. Who can you refer me to in order to investigate this further? You must have learned how to perform the Leyline Overcharge from someone else, yes? Who was it?”

//Day 3 | Location: Nameless Forest - Lakeside
@Vertigo@baraquiel@AThousandCurses@Nakushita@Yankee
In the end, nothing came out of that night’s discussions. That was the thing with stubborn self-belief, after all, the thing that came when head-strong individuals who were literally superhuman butted heads. No one was going to physically restrain Asahi, and no one could stop Duncan from coming with the pink-haired youth either. Masato remained quiet and unbending, his countenance clouded as the madwoman, Ayana, once again challenged his leadership. Shun, finding no true solace, followed in Rin’s example, and disappeared once more.

Closer by this time, due to the life-debt she owed Oros, but still positioning herself as an outsider to this strange community instead.

Nothing was resolved, only some things were decided. There would be work in the morning still, things to make. People ate, night watches were decided by lot, and gradually, the exhausted students made their way into a shelter that was looking just a bit more comfy than it was the night before. Upon springy boughs they slept, cuddled up or splayed, their snores sounding loudly in the silence of the forest around them.

Perhaps Shun’s violence had granted them this moment of peace.

Perhaps tomorrow, they would be faced with greater tribulations still.


Some did not sleep.

Kumi had stayed up the entire night, processing all the meat by herself. She was just boiling it, of course, but cooked meat lasted longer than raw meat, and the broth only became more flavorful the more time she spent on it. It was a labour of love for the daughter of a ramen shop owner, and there was no escaping her when she saw Asahi and Duncan crawl out of wherever they thought to sleep.

“Here,” she said, brusquely, wiping at the soot that clung to her nose. “Don’t think its enough, but its better than nothing. And go drink up a couple bowls of these too. Who knows if there's a river out there?” She handed over three bento boxes full of just boiled meat and fish, then ladled another two boxes worth of soup for the two soon-to-be explorers to drink. There was a sense that she didn’t approve of what either of them were doing, but she wasn’t going to sabotage their best chances of returning either.

Others woke up early by nature.

Against the morning mist, Sasuke was up once more. Only injury could keep him from performing his morning exercises, after all, as his limbs flexed and bent, seeming to manipulate the very fog that swirled around him. The Bansen school of aikido focused on the sensing of energy, in both humans and in nature, and for an instant, Asahi felt as if he were transported back to reality, back to Kuroshio, watching the serene martial artist go through his routine as always.

But that routine stopped, and Sasuke turned to face him. Sometimes, one was simply called to act, no matter what the thoughts of others surrounding them were. He recognized that resolve, that inevitability in Asahi then and there, knew that there were no words to be exchanged. Instead, there was only the smallest nod, a silent message. Sasuke was confident that the two would return.

Then there were those who woke up out of necessity.

As Duncan tried to figure out how he’d store Kumi’s bounty without a backpack, Haruko crawled out from the shelter as well, bleary-eyed and bedheaded. Through the haze of half-sleep, she looked up at her boyfriend.

She was neither generally apathetic like Kumi, nor was she resigned to faith like Sasuke.

So, of course, Haruko had to ask, her words muffled as she bumped her head against Duncan’s chest.

“Do you have to go?”

//A14 - Slaughterhouse No. 4
“Ay, those gauntlets, yeah?”

The dwarven woman nodded. From her perspective, they looked more like toys than anything else, but that was fine with her. Slaughterhouse No. 4 was an establishment known more for their larger-scale events, from frenzied battle royales to organized team fights. Some adventurers found their party here; others were scouted out for work as guards of the wealthy. It was important then, to both put on a good show, as well as to ensure that no crippling injuries were received during the show.

Better a pair of gauntlets than a proper-sharp sword.

“Pay depends on placement, but we can talk ‘bout that later.” She peeked her head out towards the courtyard, more looking towards the light rather than towards those still training there. “I’ll run you through rules n all first, introduce you to the rest of the folks here.”

And with that, she began to lead Frederika off to see the rest of the Slaughterhouse, allowing Almagest to do whatever the old man wished to do.

@Izurich

//O7 - Outskirts of Oratorio
A strange sort. Pilgrims to the Frontier City, and yet so willing to walk the way they came.

It was no skin off the back of the workers though. The older one shrugged and flicked the reins once more, while the younger one took that as his signal to get back to work. With a snorting of its nostrils, the draft horse pulled its load once more, wheels grinding against the packed dirt of the main road.

“Gravedigger, are you? Not much work for your sort here,” the wagoner spoke. “We return ‘em to nature here. ‘least for the sorts that end up nowhere.”

The wagon creaked as another body was slung atop the pile. Nothing more than another anonymous figure, to join the others who couldn't make it in Oratorio.
@Thayr

//O3 - The Underpass
It was a tidal wave.

Where else, after all, were those most destitute concentrated? Where else were the hopeful and the hopeless forced to mingle? Where else could injustice and unkindness be found in plain sight? She had some sense of the crush of humanity within the Outer Layer itself, but here, within the Underpass, the sheer fluctuation of masses, the sheer unrelenting stench, the sounds of movement and chatter and begging and suffering, it all fused into a seething, miserable beast, begging for escape.
Some cried out with hoarse throats. Others spoke of brighter topics with forced ignorance. Merchants cursed the rabble, cursed their own inability to travel and trade in the Royal Road. Adventurers focused on what was at hand, striding with intention to a place that would keep them out of a place like this. Workers scrambled by, unwilling to be stalled by any feeling of pity towards lesser creatures. And then was that constant, constant dripping and splattering, the sewage of the district above falling and settling down to those below.

Elys was truly blind here, and her other senses offered little assistance either. Only her staff offered her guidance through the most helpless of humanity distilled into these parts, as the city grounded their will to live into dust.

Would she do anything other than leave, following the flow of the unfeeling mass? Perhaps swearing an oath to be fulfilled in the far future, when most of those present now would be dead?

In absence of many of her other senses, what did her sense of justice offer?
@Estylwen

//A5 - Market Plaza
When it came to crates, Sebi honestly didn’t even have to buy it if she didn’t want to. There were plenty of open crates lying around that she could probably pluck right off the streets, their owners having abandoned them. Of course, if she wanted quality, hand-crafted, tailor-made crates, there were merchants selling them as well, undoubtedly for adventurers who sought to carry more delicate objects with them into the Abyss…but chances were nil that she could afford any of those without turning on the Kitsune charm to the maximum.

More interesting than the procurement of the boxes though, was the chatter of the people around her as her fox ears swivelled left and right, catching snatches of conversation. There were rumors about faulty potions in the market, which caused the ends of more than just a couple parties on the Second Layer, tales of a new adventuring party who had broken into the third layer, as well as news that the Diamond Knight would be returning soon from the Fifth Layer, which would undoubtedly mean yet another lucrative auction would be at hand. Less serious conversation talked of how Hawkeye Longjohn’s group imploded into a civil war over his clandestine courting of both the barbarian and the battle-mage, which ended up with half a tavern full of people injured in the resulting scuffle. Intermingling with that was talk of a mysterious stealer of boots who’ve been performing this most strange heist in the brothels up north. None of the missing boots had shown up on the markets later, however, leading to discussions of a collection of them somewhere.

But where?

Before Sebi could delve into that particular rabbit-hole, however, she heard a voice call out behind her, through the crowd.

“Ah, miss, excuse me!”

Could it be?

Of course she would turn, and of course, she would see a young foxboy, a childish blush coloring his cheeks as he looked up at her. He must have been no more than a teenager, but his clothes, hardy and practical with plenty of pockets, made him out to be an adventurer as well. A fighter, by the sword and shield slung over his shoulder.

“Um, you two are both mages, right? If you don’t have another party or anything, um…could you join ours?” His green eyes flickered with a puppy-like desire. “Please? It just needs to be once, if you don’t like it!”

Further off, the rest of this foxboy’s party waved, a blue-skinned troll with a wild, red beard and a human woman bearing a pack twice her size. Certainly, it looked like they were lacking when it came to true mages, but at the same time, there certainly wouldn’t be any benefit to becoming adventurers out-of-the-blue, no?



But there was no doubt too, that if Sebi’s latest ploy didn’t work, neither her nor her daughter would be able to afford to stay even in the cheapest, most squalid inn in the Adventurer’s District. And there was no way two beautiful, well-dressed kitsune would be safe once the sun sets in the Outer Layer.
@Asuras

//A7 - Ordo Benevolence
“Suggestions?”

Laina clicked her tongue.

“The Head Priest’s right, for one.”

Her gaze settled onto Cantor’s a beat later.

“But for two, nothing’s gonna change if we keep going like this. I heard you could kill the monsters on the First Layer with nothing more than a big rock.” She tried to calculate the costs, but apparently didn’t have a head for numbers. “And if you reduce your costs to nothing, you can make a lot more in one day than you would in three days out in Oratorio.”

Laina folded her arms, leaning back against a wooden pillar that seemed to give, just slightly against her small frame.

“You killed any monsters before, Brother Cantor?”
@Shovel

//O4 - Exploring
The area around Camille’s atelier was, as the two elves would find out, surprisingly well-kept. It seemed that immediate adjacency to the Royal Road caused some degree of civility to be present in these parts of the streets, and even the smell wasn’t nearly so bad. And the area surrounding the subterranean tunnels that lead one from the Outer Layer to the Adventurer’s District were commercial centers all on their own. Plenty of street vendors were present, selling trinkets ‘blessed’ with fortune or simply wraps that contained mysterious meat, the sorts of stuff that one could get at the Adventurer’s District, but could get for cheaper in the Outer Layer. Where there was a guaranteed concentration of people, it simply made sense to set up stalls here.

And there too, was profit to be made from the stall owners themselves.

Firenze and Meisa would both notice that a curious ornament, a wooden plaque with a symbol painted upon it, hung from each of the wagon-sized carts that carried their owners’ wares. A strange decoration. Perhaps the symbol of a fledging guild?

Perhaps.

But the more likely purpose was proven when they saw five thugs upend an undecorated cart in broad daylight, scattering the bundles of dried herbs within.

A racketeering operation, undoubtedly.

“Oi!” The leader amongst them growled, glaring at the bookish woman before him. “First time’s free, but second time’s personal, bitch. Ya had plenty of time ta pay up, didn’t you? Asking to be taught a lesson now?”

The guards of the Royal Road, of course, didn’t move to act.

The adventurers and merchants passing by didn’t move to act either.

Why would they? An operation like this clearly implied a larger gang behind it, with more trouble to come in the future for such little reward.

“Hold her down!” Two of the other thugs grabbed the herb-gatherer and slammed her against her up-ended cart. She struggled against their grip, but two-on-one were bad odds when unarmed, and there were two more who were just there to watch as her arms were extended outwards.

The rasping of steel sounded, a short sword drawn.

“Pick a hand. Or I’ll take both.”

Camille’s civility was truly extraordinary. What was happening right now was a much more common thing in the city. Violence, wielded for money and power, as the helpless grieved through gritted teeth.

Would Meisa act?

And if she did, would she even act in defense of the victim here, when there was opportunity to join in on the feeding frenzy instead?
@Click This

//A7 - On the Streets
It turns out that, despite being a fraud, Ananta knew enough about the adventurer life to at least ingratiate herself with other adventurers, and all without paying a single coin to do so. She had seen plenty of different adventurers before, after all, and most of them fell into simple enough types that she knew how to avoid the boastful gloryhounds or the near-criminal lunatics on her way to gathering information. A couple of more veteran adventurers traded some tips with her in exchange for news regarding who was still kicking in Kamal, while a quick look through the markets confirmed what looked in demand and what was being sold off for cheap.

Most importantly, however, was the fact that things were dire in the First Layer of the Abyss. It made sense, of course, but still, Ananta was absolutely chilled by the fact that the best possible result of adventuring in the First Layer, at least if one stayed only one day, was to break-even on the amount of supplies that would have to be used to stay safe on that First Layer.

Indeed, everything that she had gathered for her travel to Oratorio would only last her a single day and would only be enough to give her ‘experience’, rather than ‘profit’. In order to make money, she’d have to go in with the intention of sparing her supplies and gear as much as possible, risking injury and death in the process. Meanwhile, the influx of cheap labour available in Oratorio in the form of newbie adventurers who have to make ends meet meant that the above-ground jobs she could gain access to wouldn’t even pay enough to purchase three packets of rations after a full day.

There, of course, was the possibility of working as a porter for another party as well, of simply being the person who bore the weight of the entire party’s supplies and loot, but compared to the types that seemed to be advertising their abilities in that particular industry, Ananta was diminutive.

Could she pose as a deadshot or something then, temporarily join a party as an experienced archer, utilizing the weapon of a dying woman as a marketing device?

Or could she use that weapon, to rob a merchant or two at nightfall, and trust that the lack of proper law enforcement in Oratorio would mean that no one would chase after her?

Adventurers had to be flexible, certainly. How flexible were her morals?
@Kero

//A12 - The Rooster and Ridge
There was more chewing, the sorta hard-boiled chewing of tobacco that only the most grizzled adventurers would do. With a practiced motion, the lone ranger flicked his hat up, just enough that his steely gaze arrested Voi right where he stood.

"Don't normally do jobs for fresh-faced kiddos," he spoke, his tone like gargling gravel, "But you look like you've got the coin to afford it. What's the deal here, pretty boy?"
@Theyra
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