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Color-coded the value of districts for my own use. Gold is Rich, Silver is Comfortable, Bronze is Poor, and Green is Industrial.
Village Chef is a position you can claim after you convince the Village Sellsword to be your private security, yes.
Oho, guess we won't have to wait until Wednesday, if that's all the sheets in.
I would say 'instant aura loss', but on the other hand, I watch Youtube Shorts, so...
@Emeth Tossing you a random ping because I realized you're still alive and this might be your vibe. NP if it ain't.
Oh wait, huh.

Didn't that Imp have like some sort of ability to shoot something that was corrosive or toxic in nature? Hrm...
Otis is going to record this. Free knowledge? Woohoo!

But otherwise yeah, don’t think this really needs a post from him. If Raja didn’t Biden Blast Ciara on sight, he’d hold off on yeeting her away.
Rat-Iraleth smh.


It was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, but Otis wasn’t the type to blink.

Alright, then they’d advance in that direction.

With Chunji still gone and Davil proving that his own ability to manipulate essence hadn’t been completely lost, the Strigidae moved with purpose. The plan was clear then: restore Davil’s consciousness and mental faculties and have him use this as an opportunity to pause the poison’s progress until professionals could be bothered to take a look at it. Separation from the world, separation from exterior influences. That would be the stopgap measure to take.

Stepping off towards the cabinets, Otis raided it with impunity, coming across various potions and concoctions ranging from ‘numbs sensation’ to ‘staunches blood’ to ‘smells really bad’. He applied the staunching salves first upon the wound, then found a syringe with which to push the numbing agent into Davil’s bloodstream. Finally, with a quick spell, he cast a lick of flame on the bottom of the smelling salts, intensifying its pungent aroma within the glass container, before popping it open right in front of Davil’s nose. The stench was tidal, and even Otis grimaced at the unpleasant scent (even as he tried to analyze the individual components of the odor). If Davil woke up, enough to drink a potion, Otis would proceed to jam one that sharpened and steadied the mind (usually taken by surgeons rather than patients) down his roommates throat.

Davil otherwise should know what to do from there: learn how to manifest a Personal Barrier or die trying.

Which left Otis free to attend to the other problem in the room.

That rat, Iraleth, had brought the Principal here, of all things.

Without turning away from Davil, Otis spoke up to address her.

“Leave Ciara for now, Principal. Davil here was specifically targeted by an Umbralist. I recommend you assisting in removing the poison from his blood if you want proper answers, or at least to disrupt the schemes of that cult.”
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