Sleeping Gods Quest #42

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The hour had already grown late when you returned to the Nameless Temple, and it was later still by the time the Mentor had finished your lesson. Despite the late hour, and the fatigue you wore like a cloak, duty kept you from leaving. You've got important business, and you wouldn't be able to rest easily without taking care of it.

Cult business, northern business – all to do with Kala, or whatever else they call themselves. A warrior god, one who bathes in blood, and now the patron of a new and savage cult. Far to the north, on the island of Black Rock, the most violent members – former members now – of the Seer's cult seek whatever powers might lurk there. You explain everything to the Mentor, everything that you know, and he takes it all in without a reaction.

Then you tell him about the Ascetic, the Seer's new apprentice, and his eyes grow very cold indeed.

“There are many things that I could forgive,” the Mentor declares quietly, his voice hushed yet still as hard as steel, “But not this. Not passing the forbidden arts to another. We were to be the last, our... tradition was suppose to die with us. If what you say is true, if the Seer has passed his knowledge down to another, then he is beyond any chance of redemption.” There is a pause, a moment of heavy silence, and then the Mentor continues. “I dearly hope we're wrong about this, Ira, but there's only one way to be certain.”

Heading to Black Rock to see for yourself, you guess, to see if you can pick up the Ascetic's trail.

“Exactly so,” the old man nods, “At such short notice, I can't offer you anything in the way of transport, however.”

You might not need it, you tell him with a shake of your head, you might be able to take a ship from Garuna. If they're still there, you know someone who might be able to lend a hand.

“Garuna?” the Mentor repeats, “Yes, that reminds me. A letter arrived for you, coming from the temple city. It should be at your quarters, for when we're finished here.”

Was there something else, you ask carefully, something he wanted to ask you?

“This Murmur, this god of Voile...” a look of faint concern touches the Mentor's features, “The knowledge he possesses...”

The sorcery, of course. You asked him to bury that knowledge as best he could, you explain, to keep it from spreading throughout the land. He was quite agreeable to those terms – after all, he had his own reasons to resent sorcerers and their ways.

“Then I will trust your word. It is, after all, your duty as a Wanderer to resolve the incident as you see fit,” the Mentor bows to you, “Was there anything else?”

>No, I'd best get that letter
>Kala, this serpent – what would you suggest?
>The Seer is close to defeat. Do you think he'll go quietly?
>I did have something to ask... (Write in)
>Other

>>Kala, this serpent – what would you suggest?
Doesn't seem like something I can put down traditionally.
>>The Seer is close to defeat. Do you think he'll go quietly?

>Kala, this serpent – what would you suggest?
>Do you want to meet the Seer, before....the climax?

>>Kala, this serpent – what would you suggest?
>>The Seer is close to defeat. Do you think he'll go quietly?
>>I did have something to ask... (Write in)
So I might have a newspaper start coming out of the Temple due to some recent developments. Is that okay?

How's Tawn and Soma doing?

>>Kala, this serpent – what would you suggest?
>>The Seer is close to defeat. Do you think he'll go quietly?
We can get that letter when we're finished here.

>>Kala, this serpent – what would you suggest?
>The Seer is close to defeat. Do you think he'll go quietly?

This business with Kala, you begin, what would he suggest? Everything you've read seems to suggest that traditional ways of dealing with it might not be enough. You could put it to sleep, but it might barely buy the land a few scant years without its blight. Does he have anything to suggest?

“It may not be a noble thing, but you may need to take on the role of executioner,” the Mentor sighs sadly, “I wish for men and the gods to work together, but that is not always possible. Sometimes, the problem lies with men – and men can be guided, steered down a greater path. The gods can as well, but the process is a far slower one. Rarest of all, however, is a god that opposes mankind – as this serpent truly does. I fear the only solution will be isolation. Let no man pronounce her name aloud, or set foot upon her blasted island. Let history forget her, and her influence.”

That might not be possible, you warn. There will always be explorers seeking out new lands, or warriors chasing after the legends.

“Men will always seek power,” the old man agrees, “Until we have conquered that desire, there will be no way of putting this warrior god down.”

The unusually pessimistic decision leaves a sour taste in your mouth, and you quickly try to move past it – although there are few pleasant topics to discuss. The Seer is close to defeat, you tell your teacher quietly, does he think the scheming sorcerer will surrender quietly?

“No,” the Mentor decides after a long moment of thought, “Although I dearly wish he would. Faced with defeat, I fear he will lash out – we both had our flaws, and his was defiance. When the time comes to settle affairs, I urge you to prepare for the worst.”

Would you like to see him again, you ask a short moment later, before the... before the end?

[1/3]

“I... no,” the Mentor shakes his head slowly, wearily, “If he has passed his sorceries down to another, then he has severed the few bonds of friendship we still enjoyed. He has chosen spite over reconciliation – I have little desire to see the ruins of the man I once called a student.”

That's harsh. He's certain of this, you ask, because you might not get the chance to-

“Ira,” the old man interrupts, “Let us speak of better things.”

...Fine. There may be a new arrival at the Nameless Temple soon, you begin, a printing press. With it, the temple can produce a newspaper, one that can bring words of wisdom to the furthest corners of the land. Would he allow such a thing, you ask, or would you need to find somewhere else?

“A newspaper? A fine thing,” sensing the wisdom in the idea, the Mentor nods slowly, “It would do the land good to have information flowing freely – the truth, and not the Emperor's words. I only ask one thing – we would have a right to the equipment as well. With it, we could produce our own books far faster than ever before. It's not too much to ask, wouldn't you say?”

It certainly sounds reasonable enough, you agree, you'll take that into account. Speaking of new arrivals, though, how are Soma and Tawn getting on?

“His time in the capital seems to have suited Tawn,” the Mentor tells you, sounding vaguely surprised, “He's... sharper than I remember him. There's a hard edge to him now, however – one that I feel is dangerous, to himself as much as to others. Despite this, he has devoted himself to his contemplations. In time, I believe he will find peace. I saw him yesterday, in fact, and he expressed an interest in remaining here for a while longer. A request I am more than happy to oblige.”

And Soma, you ask, has she been accepted back yet?

“Perhaps, yes,” the Mentor smiles slightly, “Yet... she seeks a different kind of company than she used to. Perhaps you've noticed?”

[2/3]

Probably the reason Tawn wants to stay a little longer.

You certainly have. She's happy here, though?

“Until recently, I believed she was,” the Mentor's smile falls away, “For the past few days, she has been terrible anxious. Bad news, I believe, and not the kind that she was willing to share with me or anyone else. When you see her, remind her to share her burden – it will be easier, I think, that way.”

You'll do that. In fact, she might have already shared her troubles. With that last – and slightly more optimistic – note, you leave to return to your quarters. When you arrive inside, a small envelope rests upon the floor, as if it was shoved underneath your door. Sitting down as you open it, you skim over the letter inside. You don't recognise the handwriting – a tight, formal script – but the scrawled signature at the bottom reads “Murasa”. Someone else, you suspect, wrote the body of the letter.

A life of piracy, perhaps, does not offer much time for learning.

The letter itself is short, simple. For the foreseeable future, it reads, the Hijiri will remain in Garuna until she is needed. Murasa alludes to some vague reason, but leaves the details to your imagination. Sensible discretion, perhaps. In either case, you'll have transport north when you need it.

Black Rock... the idea of heading there is a formidable one, and you're not afraid to admit it. You're home now, but morning might already find you leaving again. That's life, though, and it's never bothered you too much before – not until the last few weeks, at least.

>Make the preparations to head north
>Remain at the Nameless Temple for a day more
>Other

>Remain at the Nameless Temple for a day more
Printing Press is arriving tomorrow right? We should help set that all up before moving out.

>Remain at the Nameless Temple for a day more

>Remain at the Nameless Temple for a day more
prepare things. Stuff to be printed, a fresh eyepatch, bullets from Soma, branded underwear....

>>Remain at the Nameless Temple for a day more
Maybe not a whole day but long enough to help like said.

Lewding the Howa

It's too soon to go charging off into a potential mess like Black Rock, not without getting a damn good rest first. With the Hijiri awaiting your command, you can afford to take a little time to prepare properly. Normally, you'd just throw a spare set of clothes – along with whatever other bare essentials you could think of – in your pack and head out. Now, you can think things through a little. Soma might have some more bullets for your revolver – the faster rate of fire would be an advantage against massed cultists.

So, you'll take the morning off and see how things unfold. You've earned that much. With that thought in mind, you lie down to sleep. With the fatigue weighing you down, it should take a matter of minutes to drop off.

An hour later, you stare down at the fruits of your sleepless labours. Working away with a long blade and a flat stone, you carved the sigil of Baphomet into something more permanent than a sheet of paper. A little more work might make a pendant out of it, but for now you'll keep it close at hand. Murmur's song might be a crippling weapon against any sorcery you encounter, but you can't afford to be left equally vulnerable. The delicate work somehow eases your mind, and you soon find yourself back in bed, dropping off into a deep sleep.

Morning finds you refreshed, slightly, and awake, just barely. Hot herbal tea, mixed with a few drops of that stimulating potion, does the rest and you're soon ready to face the day. Even with the early hour, there seems to be some commotion from the temple entrance. Touching your weapons – just for the reassurance they offer – you make your way down to see what all the fuss is about.

A deliver, it seems, and the wagon is driven by a familiar face. With that fantastic mustache, it could only be Aya's father – Tark – behind the reins.

[1/2]

“As you know, I happened to find myself out of a job,” he explains once he has dismounted to approach you, his voice booming out without any care towards secrecy, “A man from the palace approached me, asking me to deliver some crates here. On order of the Emperor's advisor, no less!”

That'll be Ra pulling strings again. Does he know what he was asked to deliver, you ask, does he know what's in those crates?

“Machine parts, I was told. Truth be told, I was so glad to have a bit of work that I didn't ask too many questions,” Tark's eye twitches in a blatant wink, then, “I can be very discrete when I want to be.”

...Of course. Before you can say anything else, Aya herself arrives upon the scene – dressed in what looks like a borrowed robe. She fled the city with only the clothes on her back, after all. When she pushes through the small crowd that has formed, her sleepy eyes fall upon her father and her jaw drops. Barging the rest of the way through, she rushes over to meet him, practically throwing herself at the old man in a tight hug.

You give them some time. This is... personal. Not for the likes of you to intrude upon.

When they've finished, Tark begins to get to work unloading the boxes. Aya, meanwhile, leads you a few paces away from the busy scene, her face clouding over. “A printing press, right?” she asks, “We can start work again.”

That's right, you nod. But, you add, she doesn't look very happy about it.

“I'm just...” a pause, “I appreciate this, I really do. I guess I'm just a little afraid. Next time I push my luck, I might not get so lucky, see? Maybe I should just play it safe for a while, stick with reporting the harmless stuff.”

>That's not your style, Aya
>Maybe you're right. Printing anything at all is a victory
>It's your business, I won't tell you how to run it
>Other

>It's your business, I won't tell you how to run it
>But if you do want to get back at Takino, you can always print about how he hid behind the walls and left the city to it's fate while Hirohito took the fight to cultists.

>That's not your style, Aya
Remember you are safe here. That said though...
>Maybe you're right. Printing anything at all is a victory
There isn't much to report on at the moment. The military hasn't done another Sparna to my knowledge.

>>It's your business, I won't tell you how to run it
Just remember you're safe here.

>It's your business, I won't tell you how to run it
>Mentor and Howa WOULD appreciate printing some books on the side, though. You could try it for a while, and contemplate for what reasons you disseminated truth.

It's not your business – it belongs to her and her father – so you won't tell her how to run it. That said, you're willing to offer an opinion if she wants to hear it.

“Shoot, chief,” she tells you, forcing a smile, “I'm always ready for an opinion column.”

First of all, you point out, she needs to remember that she's safe here regardless. Attacking her office under the cover of a greater attack is one thing, but openly moving against the Nameless Temple is another thing entirely. It would be a disaster for the military, worse than anything she could print about them, and the cult is hardly in a position to move against a place like this. Whatever she wants to print, she should consider herself safe to do it.

“Yeah... I'm pretty well-guarded here, aren't I?” this time, she doesn't need to force a smile, “The way I see it, I can print pretty much whatever I like!”

Well, you admit, maybe playing it safe for a while isn't such a bad idea. If nothing else, there isn't a whole lot to print – the military has shown a surprising degree of restraint in the aftermath of the attack on the capital. No more Sparna's that you know about, at least. That said, you add with a smile, playing it safe isn't really her style – is it?

“Got me there, chief,” Aya laughs, the clear sound drawing her father's attention. Wiping sweat from his brow, he shoots you a broad grin.

If she really wanted to hurt Takino, you tell her in a hushed voice, she could write about how he hid behind the walls and left the city to its fate. Hirohito, on the other hand, took the fight to the enemy, right up to their door.

[1/2]

“Hey, I could use that,” she hums a soft tune as she thinks, “A palace insider has come forwards with shocking revelations in the wake of the attack on our fair capital... how does that sound?”

Like she's getting back to her troublemaking self, you laugh, it sounds good.

“It does, doesn't it?” Aya nods to herself, “You know, I was a little uncertain at first, but I can't wait to get started on this. It'll take a while to get everything up and running – I mean, just building this museum piece might take a while – but I reckon we might be in business.”

There's just one catch, you warn her, the printing machinery would be very useful for printing books as well as newspapers. Both the Mentor and Howa would appreciate being able to use it on the side. She could help them, in fact, it might give her a new perspective on putting the truth out there.

“That's it?” Aya lets out a sigh of relief, “Man, I was worried there for a minute. I thought I was gonna have to put everything past your boss. It would be like having an editor, and not one of the decent ones. Uh... no offence intended. No, I'm fine with that. I mean, it's the least we can do to help, right? I'm already sleeping here and eating your food, it's about time I started to earn my place here. So, from today onwards, the Hinamaru publishing house is officially open!”

Didn't she say it would take some time to get everything ready?

“Oh,” Aya pauses, “From tomorrow onwards, the Hinamaru publishing house will be officially open!”

Things will feel a lot brighter around here, you consider, if she spreads some of that optimism around.

Now... where next?

>You're finished. Time to head to Garuna
>Check in with Soma. Maybe she has something that could help
>Visit Howa and say goodbye properly
>Other

>Check in with Soma
>Get all lovey-dovey with Howa and then head out

>Check in with Soma. Maybe she has something that could help

>Other
"If you need help with the printing you have my permission to round up some of the apprentices to help out. My apprentice Koa is pretty diligent and could use something to do."
>Check in with Soma. Maybe she has something that could help
Howa last.

Trying to ship Aya with Koa, aren't you?

AREN'T YOU?

Seriously though, let's do this

Hey Ira's suggestion and motive was entirely pure and pragmatic.

Mine on the other hand uh....

Yes

You might as well check in with Soma before leaving, just to see if she's got anything that might help. From what you saw of her room the other night, she has something for just about every occasion – provided the occasions all call for something to be shot, blown up or gassed, that is. They might have fallen out, but the Seer's influence over her still shines through. There's just one last thing, you decide, that you should let Aya know. Before she can return to her father, to the hard work that needs doing, you call out to her.

“Something on your mind?” she asks, “You look like you're pretty eager to get moving. Don't let me stop you, okay? I'm pretty good with my hands, and my dad's as strong as an ox. Between the two of us, I reckon we've got this under control.”

You don't doubt that for a second. If they ever need any help with the printing though, you suggest, she can recruit a few of the apprentices. They don't seem very busy at the moment, and the hard work might do them a few favours. She might want to look up one in particular – Koa, his name is. You can vouch for his diligence, and he's always ready to lend a hand or try something new.

“Koa, huh?” Aya nods to herself, “I'll look him up. Anything I should know about him?”

Nothing in particular, you decide before a thought strikes you. Ask him about his duel, you suggest, it's a pretty good story.

“Oh?” Aya raises an eyebrow, “Oh... I see. Interesting company you keep, chief.”

They certainly have their moments, you tell her with a shrug, speaking of company...

“Right, go on,” the young reporter nods vaguely, a smile touching her face, “A duellist, huh?”

Leaving Aya to whatever idle speculation she chooses to indulge in, you return to the maze of corridors to seek out Soma. Time to see if she's got any new toys for you.

[1/2]

>tfw you will probably miss seeing her deflate when she learns the truth

Repeating the same furtive game of knock and wait that you went through the previous night, Soma cautiously lets you into her chambers. If she's tidied the place up at all since last night, it doesn't show – if anything, the mess seems to have grown, spilling out onto the floor in certain places.

She looks calmer now, at least. Calmer, but not necessarily happier – as if she has resigned herself to an unhappy fate, and made peace with it. Before she can make any assumptions or ask about heading south once more, you explain your situation in a quick, clipped voice. You're heading into dangerous territory, you tell her, is there anything she can give you that might help?

“You know, there might be,” she nods to herself as she thinks, “You've still got that mask, don't you?”

Right here, you tell her as you produce it from a deep pocket, as good as the day she first gave it to you.

“Just checking,” Soma smiles a little, reaching into a satchel and passing you a pair of metal cylinders, “Be careful with these. You see that little lever on the top? Pull it up and off when you want to throw. They won't explode or anything, but they're filled with gas. It won't kill anyone, but it'll blind them long enough for you to escape... or fight back. Once, the Seer loved this stuff, anything that would knock people out without harming them too much. Now, I don't think he cares enough about cutting down on collateral damage...”

Along with the grenades, she also passes across a small pouch of cartridges for your revolver. Enough to keep you going for a while, unless you get caught up in a war.

Which is, sadly, a very possible idea.

>You're finished here. Time to head to Garuna
>Stop by Howa's quarters to say goodbye
>You've got some other business... (Write in)
>Other

>>Stop by Howa's quarters to say goodbye

>>Stop by Howa's quarters to say goodbye

>>Stop by Howa's quarters to say goodbye
Lot of shit to do up north. Getting the anti sorcery blade, Nodens waking up, Kala.

It wouldn't feel right, leaving without stopping by Howa's quarters and saying goodbye. If anything, it would feel like you were sneaking out – which you're not doing. Not this time, at least. So, after saying goodbye to Soma, you take a slow stroll over to Howa's quarters. If she's not there, you'll check the archives and see if she's still harassing Sanae.

As it happens, you don't need to go that far. She answers your first knock, calling out for you to enter. As you sit next to her, taking a seat at her small, intimate table, she reads the look on your face and smiles a weary smile.

“Duty calls, right?” she asks, an involuntary trace of regret touching against her voice. It almost sounds like an accusation, the way she says that.

She knows the situation, you reply, it's important business that you're going to be taking care of.

“Important enough that you're sitting here with me,” she points out, “Instead of riding out at first light.”

This is important as well, you offer in a soft voice. Reaching across, you touch her hand and take it in your own. Squeezing your hand, Howa sighs heavily and finally gives you a genuine smile, the expression touching her eyes more than her lips.

“Ah, go ahead, I'm not going to wither away if I can't see your face for a few mornings,” she shakes her head slightly, “I'm not some blushing schoolgirl, you know. I'll take care of things here, you go and take care of things up north. You'll be gone for a while, I take it?”

You might be, you agree, there's a lot that needs doing.

“I won't tell you to be careful – I don't need to, but this thing with Kala...” Howa frowns a little, her expression clouding over, “Don't make any deals with her. It's not worth it.”

>I won't, I promise
>Making a deal might be the only chance of resolving this peacefully
>It depends on what she offers me
>Other

> I won't unless I absolutely have too.
>hug and kiss the Howa

>>I won't, I promise

This.

You won't, you assure her, not unless it's absolutely necessary. Not if there's a single way to end this without stooping to such depths. That's the best promise you can give her now, knowing what little you do, but you give her that promise with utter sincerity.

“Hmm...” a smiles tugs at the corners of Howa's lips, as she considers your earnest answer, “Well, that's the best that any of us can do. I shudder to think what kind of offer she might make, but I trust you, your judgement. Maybe there are some people out there who would leap at any offer of power, but I don't think you're one of them. You wouldn't prove me wrong on that count, would you?”

Not a chance, you promise. You rise, then, your linked hands raising Howa up with you. Stepping close, closing the gap between you, you pull her into a tight embrace. She presses her body against your own and says nothing for a long while, her thoughts and feelings all poured into savouring the moment of contact. For all her cool detachment, her ironic smiles and teasing laughs, the longing intensity of your embrace tells a different story, one of an almost desperate affection.

When she finally pulls away a little, Howa starts to say something, to give voice to some flippant comment – as is her way. You don't let her, tilting her head up with a gentle hand and pressing your lips to hers. When you break away, there is a ragged edge to her breathing.

“You, Ira Furyo,” she breathes, “You... you need to shave. Go on, get out of here – and don't come back until you've cleaned yourself up a little.”

Of course, you reply with a calm, mocking smile. It might take some time though, a fair few days at the least.

“I can wait,” Howa retorts, her voice low and husky, “As long as it takes.”

Pausing for only the slightest moment, you pull her close once more. Your duties can wait, you murmur to her, you've earned a little time off.

[1/2]

Some time later, you find yourself on the road again, still flush with the bittersweet feeling of leaving home – and Howa – once again. Leaving might be tough, but coming back is always a pleasure.

At least the road to Garuna is a short one, peaceful and well-travelled, and you don't have to trouble yourself with riding. Tark offered to take his wagon up north, giving you a lift while he was at it. He had his own business to attend to in the temple city, he said, leaving the nature of his business deliberately vague. That's fine with you – you don't need to pry. As the wagon jumps and jolts along the bumpy road, you take a look through your pack. There, left forgotten, you find the old map of the Dragon's Head – and possibly of the catacombs beneath Garuna.

Ishida wanted this, you recall, but she might still be busy at the capital – babysitting Miura and putting the fear of the gods into Sho. You could always leave it at the temple for her, but that might be overstepping your authority. After all, her role there is supposed to be a secret, one that could put her in a great deal of danger. Speaking as fellow bodyguards is one thing, but leaving strange documents for her is another thing entirely. Suspicious, to say the least.

Pushing the map back down into your bag, you look up as the first signs of the temple city begin to reach out to you from beyond the trees. Sooner, rather than later, you'll need to make your mind up. Maybe you could stop by Selene's temple and see what the situation is before deciding anything for certain

>Head straight to the Hijiri
>Visit Selene's temple first
>There's some other business to attend to... (Write in)
>Other

>Visit Selene's temple first
See if anythings up

>Visit Selene's temple first
Wouldn't be a bad idea to see how things have been on this front.

>>Visit Selene's temple first
Can't hurt to pop our head in real quick. Unless there is a splinter cult trying something like in Dragon's Head here. Then it might hurt.

You might as well pay a visit to Selene's temple, you decide. Even if you don't leave Ishida's documents there and then, you can take a look around and see if there's anything going on. In Maab's domain, the chance of trouble – or some other “interesting” situation – is all too real. So, as Tark vanishes off into the city streets to attend to whatever business he had to take care of, you begin to trek to the peak of the city, and the grand temple that crowns it.

Normally, you'd be all too happy to take your time here, strolling through the city streets and enjoying the local colour. Now, though, the local colour seems to be grey – a thick layer of cloud hangs above, threatening rain with every passing moment. It seems worse in the distance, with the seas shrouded in an oppressive gloom. The worst of it is, of course, to the north.

Of course.

Putting the ugly weather out of your mind as best you can – difficult, when you have to look up every so often to keep Selene's temple in sight – you march onwards. You don't expect to see anyone outside, risking themselves in this kind of weather, so the sight of a bone white parasol in the grounds of Selene's temple surprises you a little. Taking a few steps around, you spot Maab's painted face, instantly familiar. She sits upon the grass, her eyes fixed to the pages of a book. As you watch, she lazily flicks to the next page.

[1/2]

“Hello Ira,” she says after a moment, “What brings you to this fair city? Business, I presume – unless the Mentor has sent you to, ah, apprehend me. I almost expected you to come sooner, if I'm being honest.”

The Miura thing, you realise after a moment, her daughter's curious affinity for magic. No, you assure her, the Mentor has allowed her to continue – as long as it doesn't prove to be a problem. The very minute she starts to put lives in danger, you'll be knocking on her door. That's something she can take as a promise.

“Fantastic,” Maab says, without much interest, “Then... it must be something else that brought you here. Can I ask what it is, or would you rather I guessed?”

She can ask, you tell her with a shrug.

“Then, what are you doing here?” placing a slip of velvet into her book to mark her place, Maab looks up at you, “Perhaps you just came to pay your respects to the goddess?”

>I had something for Ishida. A gift, to repay her for a favour
>I wondered how things were here, that's all
>I wondered how you were doing
>There was something I wanted to ask you... (Write in)
>Other

>I wondered how things were here, that's all
>Other
"On my way up north to take a look at our weather problem, among other things."

Only give the map the Ishida personally.

>>I wondered how things were here, that's all
"What does Selene think of her brother waking up?"

>>I wondered how things were here, that's all

>>I wondered how things were here, that's all
>>Other
Good book?

>I wondered how things were here, that's all
>How's Miura doing? Did they give her additional security?

Trying to find out if Ishida's here in a roundabout way

You were in the area, you inform her, and you thought you'd see how things were doing here. It looks like they're having a few weather problems up north – you might take a look at that while you're here, see if there's anything that you can do about it. Of course, you've got plenty of other business to attend to. So, you ask after a pause, how are things in Garuna?

“Quiet, mostly,” Maab decides, mulling the question over for a while, “Sometimes, it feels like we're in a whole other world here, so far away from all the trouble and strife that seems to keep the rest of the land busy. I'm glad, of course – I fear for the future of our land, if men and women end up killing one another in these sacred streets. Let that grubby business stay in the capital.”

There's a faintly unpleasant note in her voice as she says that, something that seems to imply that the capital deserved the attack. Perhaps it's not surprising that she feels that way – relations between the two cities have always been strained, cold at best – but it's still disheartening. In this day and age, she shouldn't indulge in these old grudges. Grimacing a little but saying nothing – what would be the point? - you throw out a casual question. Has Selene said anything, you ask, maybe anything about her brother waking up?

“You know, she's been very quiet about that,” Maab replies coolly. If your question took her by surprise, she makes no show of it. “Perhaps they're not very close,” she suggests, “Family can be distant at times, as I'm sure you can guess. Still...” she pauses, a faintly troubled look crossing her painted face, “These clouds are an irritation – we study the passage of the moon and the stars, but how can we do that with the sky sealed away like this? It's troubling, it really is.”

[1/2]

Well, like you said, you might be able to do something about those clouds. No guarantees, you add with a slight shrug, it might be entirely natural – just plain terrible weather.

“I certainly hope so,” Maab agrees with a faint smile, “But if not, I hope you find success in your attempts. Whatever would we do without you, Ira?”

There's always something so cloyingly familiar about the way she says your name. You don't much care for it. Putting your distaste aside for now, you nod down at the book she was reading. That book, you ask, good?

“Hmm, this?” she glances down, as if she had forgotten the text, “A quaint little tale about a fortune-teller and her warrior companion. Why, that sounds a little like us, wouldn't you say? Of course, their relationship was far more, ah, physical. I do like a good tale of romance, though, don't you?”

Grunting a non-committal reply, you ask instead about Miura. Has she returned from the capital, you ask, is she well protected?

“She... remains at the Emperor's side,” Maab sounds strangely unhappy about that, as if her plans had suddenly changed, “As I understand it, he keeps his soldiers around. Miura, of course, has her own bodyguard – one that I trust far more than any of his soldiers.”

Then Ishida is still at the capital, suffering the boredom and indignity of spying on Sho's pitiful attempts at flirtation. It's not a job you'd choose for yourself, and you pause a moment to silently wish her well. Stay strong Ishida, you think, and don't strangle the poor boy.

“I suppose that means our business here has concluded,” Maab says, dragging you back to reality, “Unless you cared to enjoy our hospitality for a few moments more?”

>Unfortunately, I have a ship to catch
>I'll pay my respects while I'm here, certainly
>I wanted to ask something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>I'll pay my respects while I'm here, certainly
But then I have to go, these storms are only getting worse.

>I'll pay my respects while I'm here, certainly
Maybe Selene might give some insight about things? Not sure if we'll talk to her though, not sure what 'paying respects' entails.

>>I'll pay my respects while I'm here, certainly
Got to be quick though.

You'll pay your respects while you're here, you tell Maab, but it'll need to be quick. You've got a ship to catch soon, and these storms are only getting worse. You're no judge of these things, but you've got a feeling that they're going to get worse before the get better – maybe a lot worse.

“As is so often the way,” Maab sighs, as she gracefully rises, smoothing down the front of her flowing robes, “At the risk of sounding like a poor priestess, I really should advise caution. Don't expect too much – the goddess has been very quiet lately, as I said. About everything, in fact. I wonder if these storms might have something to do with it? Like a great and mindless shout, drowning out the delicate truths she whispers to us. Well, no matter – come inside, Ira.”

Following Maab, you allow her to lead you inside the great needle of Selene's temple, guiding you through to an altar. Within the small room – the curious intimacy of it suggests a private altar, one apart from public viewing – you make out a statue of white marble. Old, truly old – the face is almost worn smooth, the features almost lost. Kneeling, you bow your head to that statue and clear your thoughts. If Selene so wishes, she might send you a sign – or perhaps she won't, and any thoughts that come to mind are simply your own.

For a moment, one single moment of pure and holy silence, you wait. Then, keeping Maab's warning in mind, you rise and bow to the statue. Worth a try, and it never hurts to pay your respects.

“All done?” Maab asks as you're leaving. She had waited outside as you prayed, giving you a moment alone with the goddess. “Did she...” Maab pauses, “Did she say anything?”

Not a thing, you tell her with a shake of your head, but that's okay. You've got enough to worry about, without having even more prophecies to consider. Maab laughs at that, her voice staying with you even as you leave the temple.

[1/2]

Following the scent of the ocean, you work your way through the city and come out at the docks. The Hijiri is docked in exactly the same place you saw it last, bobbing gently in the waters. Up on deck, leaning on the railing and gazing up at the leaden grey sky, you spot Captain Murasa. She could pass for a statue, such is her steady vigilance, until she lifts a pipe to her mouth and draws on it. The smoke she breathes out rising up, disappearing as if becoming one with the dark clouds above. Then, finally glancing down, she waves you aboard.

“We meet again,” she greets you with a warm handshake, “I thought we might. I knew I was sticking around for a reason.”

Her letter was pretty vague about that, you point out, can she tell you more in person?

“Not much of a story,” Murasa shrugs, “When you left, with that girl of yours, I took a trip up to Selene's temple. Later, I mean, not straight away. Anyway, I was paying my respects, when I got the idea that I was exactly where I needed to be. You ever get that feeling?”

Thinking back to the Nameless Temple, you nod.

“So, I figured I was going to be busy real soon,” a grin touches Murasa's face, “The crew loved it. More shore leave then they've had in months. Now you're here, though, I figure we can be off. Where'd you want to go, friend?”

>Black Rock, as quick as you can
>Dumas, if that's possible
>What's the furthest north you've ever been?
>You don't mind sailing into those storms?
>Other

>>What's the furthest north you've ever been?
>>You don't mind sailing into those storms?
I feel like we should get that Anti Magic Blade before hitting Black Rock. Seems like it'll be useful.

>What's the furthest north you've ever been?
>You don't mind sailing into those storms?
>Other
"It may be dangerous at all the stops we are going to. Just wanted to make sure you and your crew are aware and okay with that."

Seconding this

Wait a second, what anti magic blade ?

Howa, while at Viole's library, told us of a city (sunken now) north of Dumas that had a blade that can cut magic/sorcery.

Since Black Rock has the sorcerer Asetic and a possible hostile god, it might be better to get the blade first before we go to Black Rock.

It also does extra damage against sorcery abominations according to Moloch and there a bunch of them leeching on Nodens right now.

Ah, I remember now, a small offhand dagger whose sharpness we debated

thirding then

Does she mind sailing into these storms, you ask, even knowing how dangerous it might be?

“My girl here, she can take it,” Murasa pats the wood of the Hijiri's railing, her reply confident, “And I'm the best damn captain you'll ever find. Storms, I can handle – we can both handle them, the worst anything can throw at us.”

She might be able to handle it, you agree, but what about her crew? Some of the places you need to go, maybe all of them, might be dangerous – very dangerous in fact. You want to make sure that everyone here is on board before setting off. Are they all prepared to take some pretty serious risks?

“It's what they signed up for,” Murasa nods, “They're good men, one and all, and they won't shirk from a bit of danger. Or... a lot of danger. You know what I mean. I've only got one warning for you, Ira, one thing you need to keep in mind. The Hijiri, she had her fangs pulled a long time ago – we've got pistols and rifles on board, but nothing that could put a dent in another ship. If it comes down to that, we'll be in a damn tight spot.”

Frowning a little, you nod. With a little luck, you won't need to worry about that. You certainly hope it doesn't, at least – on land, with a sword in your hand, it's fair fight. On the water, with two ships firing lead shot at each other, you'd be helpless, useless. No, far better to keep the fighting to where you can make a difference, if there even has to be any fighting at all. Maybe there doesn't have to be – maybe the bloodthirsty warrior cultists will be willing to listen to reason.

Or maybe not.

Looking to the north, towards those dark and churning storms, you ask your next question without turning around. How far north has she gone, you ask, what's the furthest she's gone?

“That's a dangerous road to start on, Ira,” Murasa warns you, openly avoiding the issue.

[1/2]

So what, you ask, is she shirking from a little danger? Or a lot of danger? A flash of anger passes across Murasa's face as you throw her words back at her, but it vanishes just as quickly. Like watching lightning flash behind a veil of clouds, you think to yourself.

“Danger is one thing, but the open, uncharted waters are another,” Murasa thinks for a moment, “Look, don't bullshit me with fancy questions – where do you want to go?”

There's an island, you start, one far to the north...

“Dumas, right,” Murasa nods, “I can take you there, no problem.”

Not Dumas, you correct her, further north than that.

“...Shit,” the former pirate swears, shaking her head, “You know that the charts just... end at Dumas, right? There's nothing out there, just open water. If you're asking me to head out there with no idea where I'm going, no idea what might be out there, nothing like that... you're mad.”

Like you said, you counter, there's an island out there. You might not have it's exact location, but...

“Gonna show you something,” Murasa grunts, waving for you to follow her. She leads you to her cabin – a strangely warm and cosy space – and unrolls a large map. To the north of Dumas is a vast blank space, so empty that even the simple waves, the symbol for open water, haven't been penned in. “That's it,” she adds, sweeping her hand across it, “That's what you're asking me to take my crew into. A fight – fine. An Imperial fortress – fine. That void? No way, not a chance.”

>I could take this to Ra. He could order you to head north
>You're a damn coward, Murasa
>Fine, what about starting at Dumas?
>Alright, can you take me to Black Rock instead?
>Other

>>Fine, what about starting at Dumas?

>Fine, what about starting at Dumas?
We can ask the fishermen there for directions.
Or we could slowly pull Murasa to our side with mind-affecting magic while we're sailing there.

>>Fine, what about starting at Dumas?
I forgot we didn't have a map for this.

Gotta ask, what's the setting naval tech level ?

I'd think we can expect junks armed with a few cannons for the big ships, correct ?

>>Other
"There is also a sunken city at the bottom of Dumas. History has a way burying truths. I just came back from an ancient library that's been around at a time when Noden's city was above water. I'm sure of the accuracy of this knowledge."

>Fine, what about starting at Dumas?
"Look Nodens is waking up soon. I'm going to expedite that process. When he does and if he's an ally we can ask him about the Island together, sound fair? He might be able to calm down the storms for us too."

>That's pretty much the level of tech we're dealing with, yes. Even the "big" ships are all pretty small - there's not much call for serious warships, or anything too heavily armed.

I like this idea. She can talk to the big man himself about the validity of her maps and hopefully he can make our journey easier.

He also might have insight on Kala.

> What if I could get you a better ship?

I mean, the Emperor could probably swing it. And we can navigate with Astrolabes and shit.

How fast is our ship relatively to those big junks ?

Also the though just hit me, is that where the english word "junk" comes from ?

Do we have that kind of clout though?

>The Hijiri is built for speed, so we'd be able to outrun pretty much anything else on the water. This wouldn't be the first time Murasa has had to run away from trouble!

Fine, you concede, what about starting at Dumas? They fish there, and you could always ask for directions. It's possible that one of the fishermen there strayed north before, far enough north that they might be able to make a rough guess on where to start looking.

“You're really sure there's something out there, huh?” Murasa asks, staring down at her chart. Slowly, she smooths it out a little more, as if imagining the uncharted lands that might lie beyond.

You're certain of it. You took this knowledge from an ancient library, one that's been around since Nodens' city was above the waves. History has a way of burying the truth, but you've got plans to uncover it. Talking to Nodens is a good way to start with that. Once you've got him on side, you can ask him for guidance to this lost island. He might even be able to calm these storms down a little, you add, once he's woken up. You wait for Murasa to answer you, to react, but she takes a long time to shake off her silence.

“There's a sunken city?” she asks incredulously, “I heard legends, but...”

Oh, she didn't know? That's right, you confirm, there's a sunken city close to Dumas.

“Guess that's what I get for never reading my history books,” Murasa chuckles a little, a slight edge to her voice revealing a faint nervousness, “Look Ira, I don't mind making a long journey – I'd take you to the ends of the damn ocean if that's what you wanted – but I need a target, a destination. You get me a decent map, and I'll take you as far as you want to go.”

Then you'll get her that map, you decide. There's just one thing you want to know – why? Why is she so willing to do this for you?

“Not for you,” Murasa corrects you, “For myself. Sailing... it's what I do. What I love. You're just giving me a damn good excuse. I guess maybe I should thank you for that, huh?”

[1/2]

Would the expansionist Emperor who is looking to leave his mark on society as well as is concerned at least about the Gods and finally has a teenagers desire to prove himself in a heroic endeavour be willing to conquer the uncharted Seas, as well as possibly re-discover the lost city of one of the Big 3 Gods?

The Emperor whom we have talked to personally multiple times, impressed, and convinced to at least reconsider his policy regarding Gods and his railroad, who is vulnerable to acts of bravery and heroism which we happen to have a history of?

The Emperor whose father figure we're good enough friends with for him to share his darkest secret?

Whose Fiancee and love interest we saved from Death?

The Emperor who gave us a ruddy island?

I think we can probably swing a ship for exploration on our merits alone. I would hope we could grab a fleet.

Ahhh, so that's your angle. Yes, I think that's possible.
Though the expedition will probably spend months in preparation, and all the while Hirohito will try to assassinate us for contesting his influence on Sho.

> Implying Hirohito wouldn't support us

> Implying it would take months instead of diverting naval resources.

> Implying that the possibility of stopping the storms and getting a god of the seas friendly to the Empire woken up to deal with Stabby McStabface Goddess from an Island helping the cult wouldn't be a priority for everyone involved.

Nigga, you been reading this quest?

She's welcome, you shrug. Here's a thought, though – why not get her a better ship? With a few favours, you might be able to get her the Emperor's finest vessel, something ideal for exploring the uncharted oceans.

“A better ship?” Murasa finally looks up from her charts, a dark confusion leaving her eyes murky, “You're really not a sailor, huh? Sure, the Emperor might have bigger ships, or ones that are built to a higher standard, but as far as I'm concerned – and I'm the damn captain here, remember – you're standing in the best ship around. Put me at the helm of something else, and I'd have trouble finding my own arse.”

Fine, you chuckle, you thought you'd make the offer. Truth be told, you don't want to think about the kind of crap Sho would have you do in return for a loan of his flagship – it might be easier this way.

“It's decided then!” she claps her hands together, “To Dumas, and maybe even beyond!”

To Dumas, you echo, and definitely beyond.

“Don't push your luck, friend,” Murasa growls, “Or I'll have you thrown off my ship. It shouldn't be a long trip, so you're welcome to stay here. Might be that I've got a few books somewhere, though I don't know why – never was much of a reader. Just stay out of trouble, see, while I get us moving, With the weather being what it is, I'll need to concentrate on keeping us alive.”

Well, you agree, you like being alive. In that case, you'll let her get to work.

“Won't be long,” the captain assures you as she's leaving, “It'll be smooth sailing, you can bet on it.”

[2/4]

>This post is going to be a bit longer than I first thought. I apologise in advance!

>Implying Hirohito wouldn't realize this expedition gets nothing for the state or military.

>Implying Tenngaru even has naval resouces with nowhere to sail.

>Implying Sho and Hirohito even consider getting a friendly god worth the expenses.

>Implying that the Empire's go-to solution to stabby goddesses wouldn't be a huge bloody amphibious attack.

>Committing War on a war goddess.

That'd be like trying to burn Kagutsuchi to death.

Doesn't mean they wouldn't try it.

The Empire is kinda dumb like that.

They'd wise up eventually but by then it'd probably be too late.

That's a bet you would have lost. The journey could have been described in a lot of ways, but “smooth” was definitely not one of them. Some of that was just the normal rocking and swaying of travelling by water – even a little bit of uncertainty is enough to unsettle you, with your limited experience on the open waters – but soon, you know that something is incredibly wrong. The final straw comes when the ship jumps, as if struck by a giant fist, and you are thrown from your chair.

Struggling to rise, you drag yourself over to the door and make your way out onto the deck. Caught up in rolling chaos, the Hijiri barely has a chance to remain still for more than a single second. Waves smash against the sides, water spilling over to slosh across the floor, and the shouts of panicked crew fill the air. The dark sky above could paint this scene as midnight - with the thick clouds above, the sun doesn't have a damn hope of shining down upon you.

Finally pulling yourself upright, you look up to the helm and spot Hijiri wrestling with the wheel, her face set in a grim mask. Without looking down at you, she screams out a few clipped words. “We should be close to Dumas now!” she yells, “Can you see anything? I'm sailing blind here, Ira!”

Grabbing the railings tightly, you look out into the blackness of the storm, rain lashing against your face. Not a damn thing, you shout back, you can't see anything!

“Damn it, damn!” the captain howls, “I think we've been pulled off course, I've never seen anything like this!” Whatever else she has to say dissolves into a terrible shriek, the Hijiri listing to the side as she drags the wheel. Turning your eyes forwards once more, you see why she turned.

Looming out of the darkness, a great shape towers over you, threatening to crush the Hijiri like a toy. With a shuddering crash, you are thrown to the deck, your consciousness fleeing as you hit your head.

[3/4]

When you wake up, the storm has stopped. That's just about the only good thing you can say about things.

At first, you thought you were dreaming – truly, you've never seen such an alien landscape in your waking life – but then you realise the truth. These buildings, hewn from ancient stone and draped in countless layers of deep ocean slime, are something you HAVE seen before. A long time ago now, or that's how it feels. The last time you saw this place, it was deep underwater, and you were breathing from a goat's bladder.

Murasa was wrong – you were close to Dumas after all. This is Nodens' city, no longer claimed by the waves. The old god has woken, and he brought his city with him. Lifting yourself from the Hijiri's deck, you look out over the edge of the railing. The ship is stranded on dry land, the bottom of the hull splintered but surprisingly intact. The city must have risen up right beneath the ship, lifting it high and dry in the process.

Murasa is not going to be happy.

You see the captain herself at the very tip of the ship, leaning on the railing and looking out at the once-sunken city beyond. On unsteady legs, you limp over to stand at her side.

“Can you believe this shit?” she asks without looking around, “This... absolute shit?”

It's pretty unbelievable, you agree.

“Right. Fine. Whatever,” Murasa leans over and spits on the city, “So what now, friend?”

>We go and explore. We need to find Nodens
>Maybe we can get to Dumas from here?
>How badly damaged is the ship?
>Other

>We go and explore. We need to find Nodens
Maybe he can help get your ship back in the water.
>How badly damaged is the ship?

>>How badly damaged is the ship?
>>We go and explore. We need to find Nodens

>>How badly damaged is the ship?
>>>We go and explore. We need to find Nodens

>How badly damaged is the ship?
>We go and explore. We need to find Nodens

Moloch, did the Hijiri end up sealed for our sins?

>>We go and explore. We need to find Nodens
"Have your men keep their weapons close and protect the ship. There might be more than a god in this city."

>We go and explore. We need to find Nodens
>How badly damaged is the ship?

There's only one thing TO do, you tell her with a shrug, you need to go and explore this place. Nodens has the answers you're looking for – that's one thing that hasn't changed. Once you find him, you might be able to secure his help in getting the Hijiri afloat again. Speaking of that, you add, how is the ship? Not too badly damaged, you hope.

“She's not seaworthy yet,” Murasa says, in the same embittered tone that Howa used to adopt when talking about her bad leg, “But, thank the gods, my girl isn't done yet. I've got the crew patching her up as we speak – getting her back on the water, though... well, I hope this god of yours can help with that. We're gonna need all the help we can get. You really think he's somewhere out there?”

You're sure of it, you tell her, but he might not be the only thing out there. The members of her crew that aren't busy fixing the ship should arm up and stand guard – just to be sure.

“I'll give the orders,” Murasa nods, starting off towards her cabin. When she returns, a few moments later, she is carrying a small arsenal. A heavy sword thrust through her sash, a pistol on each hip, and a long rifle cradled in her hands. On the way over, she stops a harried looking crewman and barks a few orders at them. With her underling harassed, she returns to your side. “Alright, that takes care of that. They're tense, and pretty damn unhappy about this, but they seem to think I know what I'm doing. I just wish I thought that as well.”

Just stay calm, you suggest as Murasa kicks a long rope ladder overboard. Stay calm, and keep her eyes open. If she sees anything like a worm or a giant maggot, kill it – it's not something that deserves to live.

She looks a little dubious about that – or the existence of such vile life – but she nods regardless. With that warning given, you begin your descent.

[1/2]

With the storm gone, banished, the sun has once again shown its face and beats down upon you with merciless heat. What was once slime has started to dry to a thick, dark crust – one that occasionally cracks underfoot, revealing the pit of filth beneath. The stench – a vile mixture of fish, decay and something that manages to be worse – hangs heavy in the air and pollutes your lungs with every breath you're forced to take.

You hate it here, you really do, but at least it's a natural hate, one born of simple human frustration. Yet, as you follow a random path through the looming, tilting buildings, you feel something else boiling up within you.

There's definitely something wrong here, some festering abomination, but where? Hiding inside, cowering away from the brutal heat of the sun? Gritting your teeth, you press on regardless, your path slowly leading you down sloping streets and crumbling stairs. Murasa follows in silence, gazing around her in utter awe. Often, she plucks some nameless charm from around her neck and kisses it, the action taking on the repetitive nature of a mantra.

“You look like you know where you're going,” she suggests eventually, speaking up for the first time since leaving the Hijiri behind.

Down, you answer simply, you need to get as low as you can.

“That your, uh, professional opinion?” Murasa asks, uncertainty in her voice.

Instinct, you correct her, which is just about the same thing. If she's got a better plan...

“Not a damn thing,” she mutters, “Down we go, I guess.”

Through narrow streets, you press on downwards. Then, reaching a grand archway overlooking a great crater filled with dark water, you know that you've found the right place. Stepping beyond the threshold, you approach the pool.

[2/3]

Up close, the water is no longer dark and impenetrable, but more akin to mist. You can see through it, seeing right down to the limitless depths, but some instinct urges you against looking for too long. There's something down there, some formless mass of flesh that writhes and pulses with terrible vitality. Greyish, the grey of a bloated corpse, it is lined with wriggling black worms – leeches, feasting on that fleshy mass.

As you watch – knowing, all the while, that you are staring at something almost beyond your comprehension – something rises up from the depths. Connected with that mass by two long tendrils, one bound to each foot, the creature breaks the surface of the water – only to stand atop it, like a man balancing on a plate of glass. It's not a man, not even something that could be mistaken for a man, but the form borders on human.

Two arms, two legs – but a man needs far more than that to be a human.

Standing at the edge of the pool, the festering creature looks you in the eye. “Child,” it gurgles, “I am Nodens. I have slept for a great many years... but no more.”

>I think I'll leave that there for tonight. Next thread on Tuesday, and I'll stick around for a while in case of any questions!

Did we bring any coffee for him? Or would killing those leeches work just as well?

Thanks for running Moloch.

Jesus christ, how horrifying.

Thanks for the Run Moloch.