Sleeping Gods Quest #43

“A key, in its own way,” Nodens explains, “Which will guide you to my greatest secret. As my city sank, it was stolen by a sly thief – history has forgotten his name, a fact that pleases me greatly – and taken far from here. Passing freely from one hand to another, it ended up gathering dust in the Imperial treasury – I suspect not even they knew what it was, let alone whether or not they even had it. Those damn fools, always burning whatever parts of their history they disagree with.”

So the Emperor has it, you ask, in his treasury?

“Not any more,” Nodens shakes his monstrous head, “It was stolen once again, taken by a bastard mongrel sorcerer. I suspect you can guess his farcical name.”

The Ascetic, you guess, right? He was on Black Rock, seeking council from the warrior god Kala – what does Nodens know about her... it... anyway?

“Kala,” Nodens repeats the name, “A child, playing with the armies of men as if they were toys. She takes great pleasure in setting men against one another, just to bathe in the blood that they spill. Consider that, should you ever meet her – and I believe you will, Ira.”

You believe the same thing, you tell him with a nod. Then, your business here is finished for now – where is this northern island? As you ask this, Nodens reaches up as if to point, only for the hand to rupture and tumble away from his wrist. Skittering across the surface of the water, it crawls across to wait at your feet, like a puppy.

“Follow me,” Nodens gurgles, a terrible humour in his voice.

>Lead the way
>You've got to be kidding me
>One last question... (Write in)
>Other

>Well I've never seen a god do THAT.
>So, drowning doesn't seem to work too well on these leeches, is there really nothing other than the Weapon that can reliably kill them?

>>Lead the way

"Gross"
>>Lead the way

Abominations die to steel just like any other but this certain blade really fucks them up and will help extremely against Mama Leech abominations.

seconding

As that shorn hand dancing around your feet, seemingly content to perform tricks – it's joviality a vile contrast to its grim master – Murasa meets your eye. Her own expression is unreadable, but aspects of revulsion, incredulity and resignation all take their turns appearing on her face. You just shrug – you've never seen a god do that, certainly.

“No,” she mutters, “Guess not.”

If these leeches can't be drowned, you ask Nodens, how should you best go about killing them? Is this weapon of myth essential?

“These offspring die easily enough,” Nodens seems to concentrate for a moment, and a few of those dark specks burst, blackening the water around them. “But more always come. Their mother would die to steel or shot, but... I cannot destroy her myself. I spoke of Old Worm, and his ways of twisting flesh – the mother of this vile brood was once my high priestess. She was... dear to me, in a way that no human has ever been. She deserves mercy, but I cannot be the one to destroy her.”

His high priestess, she was warped into the mother of these leech abominations?

“We have a deal,” Nodens grunts, “Leave, human – the sooner we are finished, the better.”

A sore subject, you realise, for obvious reasons. Looking down at that scrambling hand for a moment, you glance out into the city. Lead on, you mutter to the old god's pet. As if it could hear you – and perhaps it can – the thing begins to waddle along the sloping streets. Fighting back the urge to throw up your hands in exasperation, you set off following the walking hand.

Why does everything Nodens is involved in have to be so disgusting? Perhaps it's his ties to the ocean – terrible things, you've heard, lurk in the deepest regions.

A dread rumour that you might be on the way to proving.

[1/2]

The wandering hand leads you along an aimless path, winding between stagnant streets and through ancient, decaying ruins as it skitters along like a frightened spider. When it reaches one particularly grand building – rather, it would have been grand once upon a time – it waits restlessly outside the sealed door. Stone, like the entire building, the door takes a lot of strength to push open. Murasa throws her weight behind it was well, and soon the thing grinds into motion.

The rush of air that escapes is a terrible thing, like every tomb in the land opening at once. As soon as there is enough of a crack for it to slip through, the hand races off into the building and you are forced to follow desperately along. Time – much of it spent beneath the waves – has not been kind to this place, but you can nevertheless recognise it as some kind of college, perhaps a library. The shelves are all stone, and no books grace them, but the similarity to Howa's archives cannot be denied.

Light from the open door cuts a path through the darkness, glistening off pools of dark slime and dripping water. Then, something that is neither scum nor stone catches your eye – although a layer of that filthy covers much of it up. It looks like... glass, a great table made from glass. With excitement stirring within you despite the grim surroundings, you approach that table and begin to sweep it clean. Carved into the thick glass is the craggy shape of Tenngaru's coastline, with Dumas and Black Rock visible at the top. Further still beyond those two rocks, a small island is marked. At the sight of it, Murasa lets out a great gasp.

>Good enough for you?
>Do you think the Hijiri can make it that far out?
>Come on, we've got our directions. Time to leave
>Other

>>Do you think the Hijiri can make it that far out?

>Other
"Told you~"
>Do you think the Hijiri can make it that far out?
>Good enough for you?

>Good enough for you?
>Do you think the Hijiri can make it that far out?

>>Do you think the Hijiri can make it that far out?

So, you ask as you both gaze down at that ancient chart, is that good enough for her?

“This is...” words fail her, Murasa's entire mind poured into the act of studying the glass table. She strokes both hands across it, busy fingers following coastline and mountain both as if committing every last detail to memory. For someone without any formal teaching, you're amazed at the bright intelligence that enters her eyes as she processes the information. Pulling out a copy of her own charts – a tiny scroll, rolled tightly and kept within a metal tube – she makes a small marking. “Good enough, yes,” she replies eventually, remembering that you had spoken.

You told her, you remark with a smile, didn't you?

“Maybe this doesn't prove anything,” she retorts, the enthusiasm in her eyes marking her words out as lies, “We might be sailing into nothingness.”

That's a risk you'll have to take, you reply with a shrug, does she think the Hijiri can make it out that far?

“Assuming we can get her patched – I wager the job should be done by the time we get back, if my boys and girls haven't been slacking off – I think we should make it,” Murasa looks back to the ancient chart, her eyes drawn inescapably to the intricate lines, “We're looking at a day's sail, maybe more, and another day back. That's assuming this island is exactly where it should be – if these charts are wrong, we could be searching out there for weeks.”

And the Hijiri herself, you press, she's fit to make the journey?

“We'll have to see,” Murasa shrugs, desperately aiming for nonchalance. She can't hide the fear in that gesture, though, the fear of her ship being permanently crippled. A threat to life or limb, you suspect, would be greeted with greater warmth. “Come on,” the former pirate speaks up again, nodding towards the entrance, “Only one way to find out.”

[1/2]

You're struck, then, at how strange the Hijiri looks out here. Sitting atop bare stone tiles, it looks more like a discarded toy than a proud pirate vessel. Forming a tight, wary circle around the ship are the armed sailors Murasa had ordered into place. There is no talking, no joking or idle chatter passing between them, and the cause is certainly not rigid discipline.

They're all terrified, pale with fear and traces of despair. Every man and woman among them seems to be asking themselves one question – will I make it out of here alive?

“Naz!” Murasa barks, summoning a member of her crew from the depths of the ship, “How are the repairs going?”

“Finished... I think,” the mousy girl replies promptly, “We won't sink as soon as we hit water, but there might be a few leaks. Nothing major, boss, nothing we won't be able to patch as soon as we find them. But, uh, how are we gonna get back to the water? We can't exactly carry the Hijiri, can we?”

“Leave that to me,” Murasa assures the girl, “Now, get everyone aboard. It's about time we get out of here.”

With a dubious look still upon her face, Naz rushes back to the crew and begins to issue shrill orders to them, waving them aboard. You and Murasa follow them up on deck, with Murasa taking her place behind the wheel. Nothing happens for a long moment, but then the ground beneath you begins to shudder and fall away, slowly grinding down until water rushes up to meet the Hijiri. Whoops and cheers erupt from all over the ship as it begins to float, and even Murasa can't help but grin broadly.

“Alright Ira,” she asks, “Where to? I don't much feel like sticking around here for long.”

>We're heading north, all the way this time
>Take us to Black Rock
>Dumas is close, isn't it? Let's go there
>Other

>>We're heading north, all the way this time
Get the weapon, come back to Nodens to get rid of the leeches, then we go to Kala.

>We're heading north, all the way this time
Let's get it done. The abomination's days are numbered.

>We're heading north, all the way this time
getting Nodens back up to speed, restoring the trinity(heh) is more important than Kala.

>We're heading north, all the way this time
>Other
"I wonder what the look on Ra's face will be when you tell him that you rediscovered lost islands and cities while messing around in Garuna."

>"Was Ira with you? If so that's somehow less surprising then it should be."

You're heading north, you tell her, all the way this time. You've got an ancient weapon to recover, and then you're going to tear out the cancer feasting on Nodens. When that's finished, you're going to move onto Kala.

“You like to keep busy, don't you?” Murasa laughs, the Hijiri easing into motion as she guides the ship out of the makeshift harbour and onto the open waters. “I don't mind, though,” she adds with a glance over to you, “This adventure stuff is pretty fun, when you get down to it. I've got a ship, a map, and something to steal – I couldn't be happier!”

Her naked honesty leads you to laugh along with her, even with your instinctual distrust of the open waters nagging at you. Perhaps this life isn't so bad, after all – it's got a freedom to it that you relish. With the wind tugging at your clothes and the ocean stretching out before you, you can see why men take to exploration. There's danger here, no doubt about it, but that's no different from any walk of life – it's just a different kind of risk.

“Naz!” Murasa shouts, leaning over the wheel to berate her young assistant, “How's the old girl holding up?”

“Strong as ever, boss!” Na shouts back, emerging from below deck, “No leaks or nothing!”

“No leaks,” the captain repeats to you, “Told you, didn't I? My girl here, she's the best damn thing on the water.”

She'll get no complaints from you. You do wonder, though, what the look on Ra's face will be when she tells him about this. Discovering lost islands and sunken – not so sunken, now – cities – like this? Not exactly the stuff of normal life.

“I don't know,” Murasa argues, “Seems to be about normal for you, wouldn't you say?”

Actually, you agree, she might be right there.

[1/3]

Once the initial gloss has worn off, you start to realise one problem with being a passenger like this – you've got nothing to do, no way of killing time until you reach your destination. With no duties, and nothing in the way of scenery to look at, it makes for a boring journey. You end up sleeping most of it away below deck, slumbering in a spare hammock and growing slowly accustomed to the ship's motions. By the time you've woken up, it almost feels natural.

Up on deck, you spot a group of crew staring off into the distance – all pointing and whispering, their eyes fixed on a dark smear. Murasa calls out to you, joining you a moment later as she hands the wheel over to someone else. “That's it,” she begins, without wasting time on a greeting, “Your island, right where it should be. Those old folks, they knew their charts.”

They sure did, you agree, so what's the plan?

“I'll take the Hijiri close and drop anchor. You take a boat and row yourself aboard,” pausing, she turns a withering eye upon her crew, “There's talk about sacred ground, and curses. Looks like I've found something my boys and girls are afraid of after all. You don't mind taking this one on your own?”

You don't mind, you shrug, but isn't she coming along?

“I'd better keep an eye on things here,” she shrugs, “I don't expect a mutiny or anything – and these dogs wouldn't dare steal my girl just because I turned my back for a moment – but it's best to be sure. Sailors, you know?”

You don't really know, but you accept her excuse. Perhaps her crew are right – it might be sacred ground. On dry land, many shirk from temples and shrines for fear of offending the gods, so why should it be any different on the water? This is a Wanderer's job, and a reason for their dubious reputation.

“I'd better take us in,” Murasa decides, slapping you on the shoulder, “Keep yourself safe, Ira.”

[2/3]

When the little boat drops, you take it and start rowing closer to the tiny, nameless island. Without the Hijiri's bulk beneath you, the ocean suddenly seems huge – vast and infinite. The island, by contrast, barely seems to exist. Seen from the distance, it might be nothing more than a cluster of rocks, the kind that would rip the guts from any ship to stray too close. All the more reason to stay away, you muse.

As you row closer, you spot a kind of rough building jutting up from the island, a shrine in the most rustic style possible. Upon landing, your boat brushing up against a rim of coarse sand, you spy another feature – one of only two details, the shrine being the other, to be seen on the island. It's a girl, a shrine maiden, and she is staring back at you. That's not a hostile stare, but one of amused curiosity.

Someone tending the shrine, this far out? You can scarcely believe it.

“Hello!” she calls out, “First visitor we've had in a very long time!”

That, you can definitely believe. As you approach, she stops sweeping the shrine steps and leans on her broom, regarding you with quick, clever eyes. Her hair and eyes are both dark, and her lips have a touch of insolence to them.

“Maia,” she says, holding out a hand to shake, “Maia Veragi. I tend the shrine here, in case you hadn't noticed.”

Ira, you reply, and you did notice.

“So?” Maia asks, “What brings you all the way out here, Ira?”

>I'm here looking for a weapon
>Do you know about a famous hero?
>This shrine, who is it devoted to?
>Other

>Do you know about a famous hero?
>I'm here looking for his weapon
>This shrine, who is it devoted to?

Did not expect that. Is there a community out here or is she immortal? Or maybe she just goes back and forth from Tenngaru and no one notices.

>Are you.....a god?
how the hell can a person live a self-sustaining life out here?

>Do you know about a famous hero?
it would seem that his strength is needed again
>This shrine, who is it devoted to?

>I'm here looking for a weapon
>Do you know about a famous hero?
>This shrine, who is it devoted to?
"You said 'we've'. Who else is out here?"

Shaking off the surprise of meeting someone out here, you focus on her choice of wording. She said “we”, you point out, who else is here?

“Oh, that,” Maia shrugs, “A joke. I was talking about the big guy in there.” Having said that, she points up at the blocky shrine. “It gets a little lonely out here,” she adds, “So... I kind of talk to the statue. You know, the old hero.”

She knows about them, then. What can she tell you, then, about them?

“The old hero Veragi – yes, I've taken their name, as all shrine maidens do. I can't prove my heritage, not that far back, but it's basically tradition,” Maia smiles, a crooked smile that seems to scorn the mere idea of tradition, “They were said to have defeated a great and wicked man once, although not soon enough to save a city... or the fair maiden. Maybe that's why they fled back here, to the north – but then, could you really call them a hero, in that case?”

Maybe not, you reply, but that's how they've been remembered nonetheless – as a great hero, wielding a powerful weapon. Speaking of a weapon, that's what brought you here. Veragi's strength is required once more, it seems.

“A weapon, huh?” Maia thinks for a moment, “Yeah, I know what you mean. Come with me – you don't mind setting foot in a shrine, do you? Some people can be funny about that.”

You've not got a problem with shrines, you reply with a faint smile, never have. This shrine, though, who is it devoted to?

“Veragi themself,” the young maiden answers, “It's not doing a good job, though – the land has almost entirely forgotten them. Their face, their full name... even if they were male or female. Sad really – you'd think they'd deserve better than one little girl to sweep the steps and a single old man paying his respects.”

Isolation does strange things to people. Either that, or this girl always had an insolent streak a mile wide.

[1/2]

This girl seems familiar...

Inside the shrine, there's little other than an altar – covered in a strip of mouldering velvet – and a nearly featureless statue. If it depicts the hero Veragi, then Maia was right about one thing – their true nature has been forgotten. Age and the harsh sea air has worn the face down to a smooth curve, and the limbs to narrow stumps.

“Veragi was said to carry a divine blade,” Maia says, half to herself as she leans on the altar, “Given by the gods, it was supposed to cut through anything. You shouldn't believe those old stories, though.” Shaking her head, she folds back the velvet cloth to reveal a dagger, its blade as dark as midnight. It's a curious thing, made into a graceful curve, and it looks as dangerous as the legends suggest.

“Look at this thing,” Maia adds, grabbing it and dragging the blade across the stone altar. True enough, it doesn't cut through the stone... but the blade doesn't seem to suffer for it, either. She wields the dagger, you notice, with an uncommon degree of familiarity. Spinning it idly in her hand, loosening up like a master duellist, she begins to prowl around you. “So here it is,” she purrs, “Were you here to take it for yourself?”

That, you admit, was the plan.

“Hmm,” Maia hums softly to herself, “I'll fight you for it.”

That's a joke, you reply after a pause, right? Eyeing up the girl, you compare her meagre height to the length of your sword – the blade comes out as taller.

“What's the matter?” the girl asks, “Scared of a little girl?”

But she's not a little girl, you guess, is she? She's something more – a god, perhaps?

“I'll tell you,” she agrees, “If you beat me in a fair fight.”

>You're a child. There's no way of making this a fair fight
>Fine, if that's what it takes
>I don't have time for your games. Just give me the dagger
>Other

>Fine, if that's what it takes
"What are the rules?"

>Fine, if that's what it takes
Probably shouldn't underestimate this girl.

>>Fine, if that's what it takes

> you compare her meagre height to the length of your sword – the blade comes out as taller.
>just the blade
that is short as fuck

>Fine, if that's what it takes

Fine, you sigh, if that's what it takes for her to give up her secrets. What are the rules, you ask as she leads you out of the shrine, first blood?

“Rules?” Maia considers the issue, “I thought we'd just mess around for a bit, see what happens. If you're going to take up this weapon, I'll need to know you're a worthy wielder. I mean, if you happened to throw it in the ocean, I'd be in no end of trouble...”

So this is more like sparring, you suggest as she begins to circle you, or a test of your skills.

“If you like,” the girls grins, a note of savagery in that little smile, “I wouldn't get overconfident, though – I might surprise you.”

She's already surprised you, you counter as you draw out your sword, and she's still doing it. It doesn't matter what kind of surprises she has, though. You're going to win this fight – to satisfy your curiosity, if nothing else.

“Hardly a noble motive,” Maia laughs, “Shouldn't you be pledging to defend the land, or something like that? Winning the day and saving the fair maiden?”

Ignoring her jibe – duels, you've noticed, often begin with such taunts – you focus on gauging her skill. Although she is tiny, frail almost, you see no sign of weakness in her pace. The sand underfoot shifts every so often, but she never slips or stumbles. What's more, she holds that ancient dagger like a skilled knife fighter, and there is no hint of hesitation in her eyes. If you were here to defile her shrine, you realise, she'd gut you in an instant.

At least, she'd try her best.

>Please roll 1D100 for this fight, aiming to beat 50/70/90. I'll take the highest of the first three rolls
>Spell cards CAN be used here, but use caution

Rolled 54 (1d100)

Start with the rolls, see what spell we might need.

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>Use the vine immobilizer focused on feet
Tests if she can avoid it, and if it's somehow redirected back to us we still have reach without taking damage/debuffs.

Rolled 78 (1d100)

TRIO GUIDE MY DICE

Rolled 81 (1d100)

She's not going to teleport around or anything, right?

No. The vines will break through the shrine floor. You do not want that to happen.

what? why? what makes you say that?

Okay I am going to say we should focus spells on us instead of using them on her so use...

>[Titanos] Wrath of the Gods
“Wherever my eye falls, men shall know fear. Fall upon them, Wanderer, like a mighty avalanche!”
Until the end of the current combat, consecutive attacks against the same target gain a cumulative +5 modifier. This has a maximum modifier of +30

Start our combo.

Because the vine bust through the surface of the earth?

Vines come up from the ground every time we've used them?

Ironic since we are kind of fighting one. Or two maybe, it feels like she has the attitude of Amelia and the skill of Mia.

I mean what's so important about the shrine floor? It's been weathered by salty air for decades, all that's left would have to be the sturdy stuff, no traps or anything.

>If you were here to defile her shrine, you realise, she'd gut you in an instant.

Don't fuck with the building user.

>you ask as she leads you out of the shrine, first blood?
>out of the shrine

>Just a reminder, we are currently outside her shrine - we can use our spell cards without fear of damaging the temple itself
>Summoning vines would bring them up from the ground. Sand, in this case.

Ah. I overlooked that bit. My bad.

Still I feel like attacking her with spells have a much better chance of backfiring than buffing ourselves.

>Wrath of the Gods
Earliest we do it the more we'll get out of it.

I think it's the other way around. I prefer a one-off spell that wouldn't really inconvenience us even if it backfired.

If Wrath of Gods could be reversed into a stacking DEBUFF....

user she has a blade that cuts through magic. That's why Moloch is telling us to be cautious. Your vines won't do shit. To nullify Wrath she has to hit us. And it will nullify not reverse.

All the better to see it in action with a spell that can't blowup in our face?

........ Literally retarded

You don't know if Wrath is capable of blowing up in our face either.

Can we just see what happens? Speculation can only get us so far.

My concern is that Wrath is a continuous effect, like the decreased max health spell.

>Can we just see what happens?
that is exactly my argument. If we want to see what happens, better if it's a one-off spell that isn't a continuous effect in case it becomes a continuous disadvantage, nor predicated on us getting hit like the porcelain skin.

I'm sorry man, there has been nothing regarding the stories of this blade that says it reverses magic. Only nullifies it.

If you are somehow right I'll let you have a dozen 'I told you so's and we'll just have to finish the fight quicker.

Besides, a fight hasn't lasted more than 3 rounds in this quest so a stacking debuff wouldn't hurt that bad and this fight isn't to the death. It's just sparring.

>I'm going to throw this up to a sudden death vote, just in the interests of moving things along. The first response to this post wins

>Wrath of the Gods
>Grasping Vines
>Use no spell cards

>Wrath of the Gods
Goddamnit I literally just posted so I have to wait a full minute.

>first response
I am confused of when this became a thing.

and you're still lightning fast, anyway.

I suspect the combo might end before it begins due to that knife. Vines may have been better because they are not inherently made of magic just summoned by it.

>Wrath of the Gods wins it. Writing the next post now, so it shouldn't be long.

>It's just a way to quickly decide between a tied vote, or one that otherwise needs a snap decision. It's very much not the norm.

Kicking up a cloud of powdery sand as her heels dig in for a brief moment, Maia hurls herself towards you with her dagger swept back for a lightning quick slash. Your own blade comes down to block, the two weapons locking together for a second before you swipe up, knocking her away and forcing the girl back a few paces. Against all odds, she keeps both her grip on the weapon and her balance, turning the stumbled retreat into a quick hop.

She's not going to be happy with just that, you ask as you bring your sword into a guard, is she?

“This is the first fight I've had in years!” Maia retorts, “You think I'm going to let it slip through my fingers?”

Thought not, you mutter as she laughs. Throwing the blade into her other hand, she charges again – only for your sword to meet her once again, turning her attack aside and pushing her back. If she wants a fight, you growl as she dances back, you'll give her one! Touching your free hand to your chest, you call upon the memory of noble Titanos – as Nodens had so sardonically called him – and let that brutish god empower your strikes. With the old man of the mountain lending his aid, you go on the offensive.

It's hard, you realise, to fight a non-lethal duel without a suitable training blade. When the slightest slip could cut her open or sever a limb, you never quite allow yourself to cut loose entirely. Even so, your attack puts her on the defensive, causing her to duck and dive around your blows, laughing all the while. When you part once more, you're both gasping for air.

“Come on, old man,” Maia grins, “I think you're showing potential. You want to seal the deal here and now?”

Damn right you do, you growl back, unless she wants to give in?

“Not a damn chance,” she snaps, “Come on!”

And so the fight resumed.

>Please roll another 1D100, aiming to beat 50/70/90. I'll take the highest of the first three, and this will be at +10
>Also, name any spell cards you wish to use

Rolled 65 (1d100)

Rolled 39 (1d100)

As the mountain

Rolled 5 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

no spell cards for now, I guess

Rolled 144 (1d620)

Rolled 4 (1d20)

Could slap on

>[Titanos] As the Mountains
“Become as harsh and unyielding as the mountains, Wander, as I was.”
Until the end of the current combat, all damage is reduced by 5, and all attacks gain a +5 modifier.

Cause fuck it, why not? It lasts until combat is over.

Rolled 4 (1d100)

I agree with this

>[Titanos] As the Mountains

>Writing the next post now, going with using As the Mountains.

“Nice trick you got there,” Maia taunts, “You'd better not rely on it too much, though – I'll cut the damn magic out of you!”

She'll have to hit you first, you shoot back as you call upon your next “trick”. This time, it's the memory of Garl Yamada, that gnarled priest of Titanos. A proud warrior in his youth, you now let his strength pour into your limbs. Swinging your sword with incredible speed – it feels so light and easy, as if the steel was an extension of your own body – you push Maia back and put her, once again, on the defensive. Sparks fly as she lashes out, her small blade skipping off your sword as she tries to keep it from ever getting too close.

Then, in the middle of your furious attack, you twist your blade and bring the flat of it cracking down on her knuckles. Crying out in pain and surprise, Maia drops her blade to the coarse sand. In that moment, she is utterly defenceless – open and exposed, even as your sword flashes towards her once more.

She catches it, grabbing the steel in a bare hand and freezing your attack in mid-air.

“Nice,” she says with a casual nod, “That little twist at the end, I didn't see it coming.”

That's the point, you agree as you pull your sword from her hand. Just as you expected, there isn't even a trace of injury there. So, you guess, she's a god?

“Looks like,” Maia nods, “Not a very good one, though. Do you know how many worshippers I have? Three – all of them in Garuna, worshipping the image of a hero that's built up over the years. Like I said, you shouldn't believe those ancient stories – this blade can't cut through everything, and I'm not some conquering hero.”

So, you ask, what is she then?

“Come on,” Maia nods back towards her shrine, “Let's talk business.”

[1/2]

“You see, I wouldn't exactly say I'm the hero Veragi,” Maia tries to explain as she leads you back to the shrine, “More like... the idea people have about the hero Veragi. Over time, memories become stories. Stories become legends, and those legends give rise to... gods, I suppose you'd say.”

Small gods, you say with a slight smile.

“Wow, okay, I'm a little sensitive about that,” Maia frowns, “Being short didn't stop me cutting the head from Old Worm's body, did it?”

You've only got her word for that, you point out, and she's warned against trusting old stories before. In either case, have you earned the right to use her dagger?

“Ah, sure – it's yours,” Maia hands it over, offering the grip to you, “Might as well put the old thing to some use. I've got one condition – bring it back, will you? Doesn't matter if it's tomorrow or in ten years, as long as it comes back home eventually. Keep it until the day you die, even, just make sure someone brings it back. Reckon you can deal with that?”

You think you can deal with that, you agree, it's a fair condition. After all, you were only borrowing the thing – not stealing it.

“Ah, I suppose I should thank you for a good fight,” Maia yawns, sitting on her altar and restlessly kicking her heels, “If you've got any questions, I'll do my best to answer them.”

>What you said, about not being a hero. Was that true?
>Will this blade really cut through magic?
>I'd better go. My ship is waiting
>I had a question for you... (Write in)
>Other

>What you said, about not being a hero. Was that true?
>Will this blade really cut through magic?
>Did you realize the reason you're not getting more visits or worshippers is because your island was reckoned lost entirely? Took Nodens bringing his city back to find it.

>What CAN this blade do?
>I don't suppose there's a way to sharpen this, or make it into a spear?

>Offer to visit her followers sometime, or make a proper shrine somewhere.
Although in this case, how we design the shrine would greatly influence "her" form.

Tell me about them

>What you said, about not being a hero. Was that true?
>Will this blade really cut through magic?
"Hopefully by tomorrow all of Old Worm's taint will be destroyed for good."

>Other
"It's little wonder why so few people know your story since the city it took place in was forgotten about too. Nodens' city recently resurfaced, and as such so does Veragi's legend."

>I had a question for you... (Write in)
"Do you want me to spread the knowledge of this island to Garuna so that people can make pilgrimages out here?"

Hmmm. She's a good fighter.

Nameless Temple owns Dumas (and possibly Nodens' city). And this Island is only a day away from Dumas.

It could be possible for apprentices to come out here to learn a thing or two in combat while interacting with a god for experience.

It might work better as is. Offhand weapon with our sword in our main hand.

I think that's what Moloch was going for.

This dagger, you ask, can it really cut through magic? What does that even mean, you add, what kind of power does the weapon possess?

“It's something you've got to get used to,” Maia shrugs a little, “You need to get a feel for when someone is using their magic – sorcerers make this easy, they tend to use very grand gestures. When they're busy posing, you just...” she pauses here, slashing her empty hand through the air, “Slash! I couldn't tell you how it works, exactly, but it's something to do with severing currents of power. I don't know, that stuff was never really explained to me. Like I said, I wouldn't call myself a very good hero.”

Why not, you ask, was she speaking the truth earlier – was she too late to save the city?

“I... hesitated,” Maia smiles bitterly, “I spent so long working up the courage to do my duty – my “holy” duty – that I was too late to save anyone. When I finally arrived, Old Worm held court over a city of horrors. The high priestess had been... she wasn't human, and most of the city had fallen to the same fate. All I could was get revenge. Old Worm died, and Nodens judged his city to be beyond saving. Even those who hadn't been turned completely were tainted, he said, touched by sorcery. I was one of the few people to escape the city before it was dragged down beneath the water.”

Taking the true story with it, you add, that's why she has so few visitors out here – by all accounts, the island has been lost completely. You needed to reach Nodens' city to learn the location.

“Figures,” she laughs, the sound hard and cynical, “Some reward, huh? Well, I suppose it's more than I deserve, considering...”

Hopefully, by tomorrow, the last of Old Worm's taint will have been wiped out. With her blade in hand, you vow, you'll finish her holy duty.

“You're a good man, Ira,” Maia nods, a satisfied smile touching her face, “Better than I ever was.”

[1/2]

When you leave here, you offer, you could bring word of this island to the mainland. She might get a few more worshippers that way – you might even visit her shrine in Garuna, meet all three of her worshippers. What are they like, you ask, are they good people?

“Hmm, better than I deserve, perhaps,” Maia chuckles, “I'll admit, I find it a little funny – they offer prayers, and they praise my name, but they really have no idea who they're worshipping. It's all an idea, a concept that's built up over the years. It's strange, though – it's started to change me, who I am. You really think I could fight like that when I was a real human? Not even close – I fumbled around like a fool. They're good people, my worshippers, but I reckon they'd abandon me in a heartbeat if they ever saw me as I am now.”

Then what about some new worshippers, you offer, apprentices fresh from the Nameless Temple? She could teach them a thing or two about fighting, you don't doubt, and they would benefit from learning from a god.

“Hey, I like the sound of that,” Maia considers the idea, “I might have to pretend like I know what I'm doing, but I reckon I can manage that. You're really the kind of guy who goes above and beyond, huh?”

Well, you shrug, you're just doing your job.

“Yeah, well, you deserve a decent reward for it,” the young god decides, “Not just that museum piece. Just give me a minute to concentrate...” Frowning, biting her lip as she focusses, Maia holds out her hand – a weak and flickering light dancing around within her palm. A new spell card.

>New spell card gained
>[Maia] Veragi's Step
>”It's nothing personal, but sometimes a knife in the back is the fastest way to end things”
>Slit space and travel through, gaining the ability to teleport a short distance.

“That's the trick that won me Old Worm's head,” Maia tells you with a wink, “Use it well, you hear?”

[2/3]

I hope Ira won't need to wear a corset.

>Nothing Personnel Kid, the spell
Thanks M(a)ia.

>”It's nothing personal"

>teleport spell
>knife weapon
>"It's nothing personal"

Moloch, you cheeky monkey

>>”It's nothing personal, but sometimes a knife in the back is the fastest way to end things”
Psshh

After promising to use her gift – both gifts, in fact – responsibly, you row your little boat back out to the Hijiri. Murasa is standing at the very front of the ship when you arrive, a collapsible telescope clutched in her hands.

“Saw you out there,” she remarks, “Fighting with some kid. Looked like she gave you some trouble, old man.”

You had the situation entirely under control, you reply tightly, and you're not that old.

“Old by my standards,” Murasa chuckles, “You don't see many old pirates, see? Old sailors in general, now I think about it – the ocean is a harsh mistress, especially when you go roaming this far out. Young men go out seeking fame and glory, like as not they don't come back.” The mirth in her voice dies as she gestures at the ocean around you. “Look at this place, Ira. If we didn't have that chart, do you think we'd have a chance at find your island?”

Looking around at the horizon – featureless, as blank and hollow as the sky above – you can only agree with her. This is the kind of place that devours men, swallowing them whole and leaving nothing behind to bury. If not for the ever-present grumble of sailors and the creaking of wood, there would be perfect silence. Spooky, in a way.

“Come on,” the former pirate murmurs, “Let's get out of here.”

>Back to Nodens' city – I gave my word, after all
>Take us to Black Rock
>We should get back to Garuna, and fast
>Other

>>Back to Nodens' city – I gave my word, after all

>>Back to Nodens' city – I gave my word, after all

the card sounds alot like something Mia would exhort.
>stab the fucker in the back.
>b-but...
>In. The. Back.

>>Back to Nodens' city – I gave my word, after all
One might call Ira violent, irritable, unsociable, and yes, old. But a liar he is not.