FE Quest: Silver Scales of the Past - Part 42

>You are one of three characters: Samson, a spoiled bard, Dyrus, an axe-wielding prince crowned by a successful rebellion, or Rene, an orphan adopted by a high-ranking Director of an declining Empire, now a prepromoted archer-lancer. POV will rotate between them on a thread-by-thread basis, with a HIGHLY unlikely chance that someone else might someday take a chapter.

>These protagonists' motivations and goals will very likely come into conflict with one another's.

>Character Death is always a possibility and sometimes an inevitability (this is Fire Emblem after all), but your actions can very easily influence who lives and who dies.

>Voting periods will last an average of ten to fifteen minutes, but this may be increased, decreased, or generally changed at any given moment based on voter turnout.

>Write-ins are encouraged.

>The previous threads are archived on suptg under "Silver Scales of the Past," and a pastebin summarizing each one's events will be provided at the start of the next, like so: pastebin.com/GwqZ527Z

>A list of all current summaries and threads: pastebin.com/E9sXAcBx

>Our update Twitter is qmgrandflocto, and we have an ask.fm also under ask.fm/qmgrandflocto

>Preempting any memesters in the audience tonight. /qst/ is a trial board, and I am not currently under any obligation to migrate there.

Other urls found in this thread:

youtube.com/watch?v=QugbLVh9Pd4
youtube.com/watch?v=ziDfl6w8_QU
youtube.com/watch?v=ZhI410LOP5Y
youtube.com/watch?v=TLZGtwR57d8
youtube.com/watch?v=kOh7klO3qTk
twitter.com/NSFWRedditGif

"...what do you mean Darren got away?" Rene asks.

"I mean he is no longer in his cell," Cicero says, "and there's hardly sign of where he could have run."

"Then whoever freed him..."

"Likely used the Witch Pendant to get him away, yes," Cicero says.

"And... My Ice Stone was stolen, too," Sara says, "I'm... Not sure I'll be use in a fight without it..." Muttering quietly, she adds, "that was mother's..."

"Then... Is Kristina truly responsible?" Rene asks.

"It... Would still be presumptuous to accuse her outright," he answers, "since anyone could theoretically use that pendant for a short distance. This... Clears Hal of being the traitor, which likely means he truly did die, be it by foul play or genuine accident."

You are now Samson, the day before the battle of Fort Larissa. You're confronting the very much alive Hal for speaking to the anonymous traitor.

"...so, yeah, it's. Pretty fucked," Hal says to you, having just retold the events of Rene's previous playable chapter. In his hands, he holds a sealed-up envelope. "The bandit they recruited killed the new princess of Neir when no one was looking, they captured the Lords of Chance tactician and have him well-guarded... But the traitor, they're doing everything they can to slow 'em down. Still think they'll end up finding Ludwig and killing Bishop Lisa, but from there they'll be at a roadblock without the Witch's Pendant."

"So... Who is this traitor, anyway?" You ask, "I mean... If we end up confronting Rene after Fort Larissa, I really don't want whoever that is to die."

"They... Really don't want me saying anything until they're ready to reveal themselves," Hal says, "in case word gets back to them and screws everything up."

>A. Fine
>B. Please?
>C. A hint, maybe?
>D. Write-in response

Vote time renewed.

>A. Fine

"Fine, fine," you say, "but... What's in the envelope?"

"Oh, this?" He says, holding it up. "I dunno, they just told me that holding onto it, getting it to Sir Jovan, was a top priority... Didn't tell me what was in it."

"So you just accepted a strange thing from someone on the opposite side calling themself a friend?" You shake your head. "Classic Hal..."

youtube.com/watch?v=QugbLVh9Pd4

"So I... shouldn't trust 'er?"

"I didn't say that," you say, "just that you're exactly the right type of gullible to take this person at face value..."

"So... Do I open the letter or not?" He asks. "You're confusing me. Is it a trap for Jovan or not?"

"Were you specifically told only to let Sir Jovan see it?" You ask.

"Well, I mean... No, I wasn't, but it's implied by asking me to deliver a letter, you know. I'm not sure if he'd notice the difference, though... Great, now you've got me confused! What do I do, Samson?"

>A. Let's open it ourselves, then!
>B. Let's just deliver it to Jovan
>C. Let's destroy it without opening it
>D. Write-in response
>E. He can do whatever

>B. Let's just deliver it to Jovan

"...I mean, I'm pretty sure it's at least three types of illegal to read it ourselves if it's for Jovan," you say, scratching your head, "so let's just... Get it to him, report this whole situation as you heard it."

"So... Business as I planned it, got it," Hal says, pouting slightly. "Man, why do you need to make everything so complicated..?"

"This is..!" Jovan's eyes open wide as he reads over the papers found within the envelope. "Are these real?! Hal, who gave these to you?!"

"I'm sworn to secrecy," he says, holding up his hands once more, "they don't want their cover in Rene's group blown before they're ready to reveal it themselves!"

"May I ask what that is, exactly?" You ask.

"It's... Fabrice, look at this," Jovan says, handing it off to the pretty-boy tactician.

"Oh, my... This certainly makes matters more pressing."

"What's it say?!" You ask.

"Hal, you mentioned that you were unaware who might have stolen the final pages of Xerxes' diary..." Jovan starts, "well, these are those very pages!"

"So... The real heiress to the Gerxel Empire is in those pages?" Hal asks. "But who could..."

"As though I would just... blurt it willy-nilly," Fabrice interrupts, "I mean, this may be the most sensitive information we have ever handled! We absolutely cannot have word of this leaking back to Rene!"

"Then... Shouldn't we be making efforts to secure the real heiress, wherever she is?" You ask.

"After we've captured Fort Larissa, Director Belinda awaits us to the North. Rene and her forces, meanwhile, will be in a village to its South," Jovan says. "With the traitor being the one handling their Witch's Pendant, they won't be able to get anywhere fast, even with all of the heirs gathered. After we've met up with Hauteclere and her forces, we can send a small team Southward to apprehend Rene and her band of miscreants before they even know what information they've lost."

>A. Yes, sir
>B. You wanna know who the heiress is!
>C. Write-in response
>D. ...

>B. You wanna know who the heiress is!

>B. You wanna know who the heiress is!

"Come on, who's the heiress?" You ask.

"Like I said, that's sensitive information," Fabrice responds. "We won't be telling you a thing unless it becomes pertinent that you know it."

"Alright, fine... Be that way, I get it," you say, showing yourself and Hal away.

After you and Hal walk out, he grumbles, "man, it must suck to be you... A second earlier on noticing me and you would've known about the mole, and now you miss the heiress info... I mean, I do too, but you know. I know the other thing."

You sigh, wondering how you'll spend the next break before the lot of you get back on the road.

Hal goes off on his own, only to be interrupted by Adam's own curiosity shortly after, word getting out of there BEING a traitor on team Rene soon enough. "Tell me," he says hopefully, "is it Alfred? Has he been... True to his hatred of the Empire this whole time, beneath their noses?"

Norman and Adam hang around one another, discussing things such as hunting, fighting, fishing...

Riley sees a rival in Adelais, not very much liking her attitude as a confrontational firebrand herself, and duels with her on the regular.

Edwyg chats out life with Millicent as they and Dinah work out, the Armor-sword silently enjoying their company before eventually going over to speak to Fabrice about something.

Jovan continues plotting and scheming on his lonesome, preparing for the next days' events.

>A. Talk to someone [specify]
>B. Write-in action
>C. Skip forward

>>B. Start writing a play inspired by our travels

>A. Talk to someone (Norman)

"Seriously?" Jack asks, chuckling a bit, "he doesn't think well-done is the worst travesty to meat ever?"

"Look, I like it any way!" You say, huffing as you take notes, "it's all about the quality of the meat. If it's not shitty, it can taste amazing with any half-decent preparation."

"But to turn the best of cuts into a well-done steak..." Norman shakes his head. "Trade secret, ask any butcher or restaurateur, if you ask for your stuff well-done, they're not going to give you their best stuff. They know you'll eat it anyway, so they save the best cuts for the rareness lovers..."

"No way, really?" Jack asks, chuckling. "Riley said the same thing to me, but I thought she was just talking about on the border guard. The food there was crap anyway, so it didn't matter how you ate it."

"...and you had to put up with that stuff for."

Jack nods at Norman, "six months, yes. And Riley and I have Holmstead palates! The dissolving of the Holmstead border guard had to be the best part of kicking the Empire out, boy I tell you..."

"Ouch," Norman says.

"Hey, Samson, what've you been jotting down over there?" Jack asks you.

"Oh, this?" You say, "it's just... As a writer and a survivor of this war, I feel like it's my obligation to make sure history never forgets our campaign."

"Haven't survived the war yet," Jack says, chuckling.

"I don't have any intent on not making it through, so... Yeah, I've survived this war," you say, certainly. "And after this and completing and publishing Raleigh's final works, I can move onto my personal projects!"

"Personal projects."

"Yes, Norman, like trying to make literature that appeals to kids. Lighthearted fiction based on my cat."

"Your... Cat," Jack says, raising an eyebrow and cracking up.

"Fun story, I freaked Samson out when I asked to cook his cat when we first met."

"A book about your cat..." Jack scoffs. "That'll never sell."

>A. So?
>B. Yes it will
>C. He's right
>D. Write-in response

>B. Yes it will
"It will be about a dashing cat that can walk on two legs who fight bandits, dragons and woos the cat queen."

>A. So?

Rolled 1 (1d2)

"So?" You say. "It's not about money, it's that I'm going to be tired thinking about war and strife. Publishing this will be just as much about myself as it will be younger readers."

"...oh," Jack says, looking away and frowning.

"So just... Let me write my silly Tilly the Cat book, alright? I'm already exhausted from all this thought of bloodshed, and it..." You clear your throat, looking down. "I get angry a lot easier these days, tenser. I need to get my mind away from dark places so I don't end up taking it out on someone who doesn't deserve it in peacetime. Go back to being happy-go-lucky Samson."

"I... Feel like a bit of a dick now," Jack says, "I'm sorry."

"Well you should," you snap, before shaking your head, "sorry, no, you didn't know what this means to me."

"...I don't want to eat your cat," Norman says, not making it clear once whether he was ever serious about that or not.

"I know, I know you wouldn't do that to me," you say,nodding. You know he's trying to console you.

"You sure bringing a pirate girl along for this whole thing was a good idea?" Jack asks, referring to Adelais. "Who's to say she won't use this to just... Bring her whole sketchy business back up to its heights?"

"Hey, Ada's a decent person, beneath it all," you assure him, "not to mention hardly a strategist. I'm sure she wouldn't make a return to piracy and gangstership."

"Alright, fine... If you say so," Jack says, pacing a bit, "you know her better than me."

>A. Say something more (write-in)
>B. Talk to someone else (specify)
>C. Skip ahead

>B. Talk to someone else (Hal)

>B. Talk to someone else (Hal)

"Not even two weeks after the East gets a new royal family, its princess dies against a horrible opponent... Terrifying stuff, this war business," Hal remarks soberly.

"Yeah, I hate it too," you say, "I wish there were other ways in life..."

"You and me both," he says, "you know I'm only here because I know you're the safest person to be by."

"I still really... Don't know about that," you respond, "I mean, I'm pretty much third in command of an army, always on the frontlines."

"But you've sworn to keep your team alive," Hal says, "and... I earnestly believe you'll do everything in your power to keep it that way. Meanwhile, if I stayed in Holmstead..." He shrugs. "Say it turns out my next-door neighbor is the heiress to Xerxes, Rene and her goons kill me after finding out and trying to swipe her away while Noban knights are gone."

"That's a... Pretty big what if, Hal," you say.

"But not impossible! It could be any early twenty something. Maybe even me... Or it could've been Raleigh! Or-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," you say, looking at him sternly. "You're talking crazy. Plus, if it was a dead man, they would let us know."

"Yeah, yeah... Sorry, I'm just wound up lately," Hal says, "and knowing the information that was in my hands earlier today... It's exhilarating. Gonna be riding this all the way through fighting this assistant-director Lange guy."

"You and me both..." You remark. "You and me both..."

>A. Say something more (write-in)
>B. Skip ahead

>B. Skip ahead

>B. Skip ahead

Soon enough, you find yourself riding up to meet Queen Hauteclere opposite Sir Jovan. They outline their earlier-planned plans to have one another fight through opposite ends of the fort and capture it.

youtube.com/watch?v=ziDfl6w8_QU

"So," Fabrice says, rubbing his chin, "you're the prince who Biff and Byron fought alongside... Fabrice, by the way. My companions and I were offered to your service long ago."

"...hey," the blue-haired prince says back.

"My apologies, I simply wished to meet you," Fabrice responds. "From their writings, you show an ample amount of promise and zeal for life, and as a major ally of the Duchies of Noba, I want to know that your home's future is in good hands."

"You're... Not really getting me at my best," Dyrus responds, bummed out.

"Right... I'm terribly sorry, I think I'd heard about this," Fabrice says, walking away and speaking to you instead. "Prince Dyrus is... About as distraught as you would expect, having learned about his sister not a full day ago," he tells you. "With his morale that low, I doubt he'll be able to even make it through this battle in one piece. Do you know if there's anything you might do for him?"

You stick your neck out, shooting the kid a concerned look.

>A. Approach him (suggestions may help!)
>B. What can you do?!
>C. ...
>D. Write-in response

Vote time renewed.

>A. Approach him (suggestions may help!)
The only thing I can think of for Samson to do while knowing relatively little of the situation's details or Dyrus' personality in much depth is to try and befriend him and converse, preferably in a way that engages him and hopefully stumbling across that common bridge of musical interest due to that.

+1

Laptop is giving me trouble, so. A moment.

Update: it's being even more insufferable than usual. Resetting laptop seems to have only made it angrier. Please hold tight.

Alright, switching over to firefox seems to have mildly unfucked it. It's mainly Chrome shitting the bed, with a side of usual laptop annoyance.

Restarting the devoured post now.

Well, never fucking mind then.

Pardon me for thinking my laptop could work.

I'm not ready to admit defeat, though.

Good luck, Octo.

Alright, in the meantime i'm going to post on mobile just so you guys aren't doing nothing but wait. This is honestly infuriating, and if I don't have it up soon I'll just continue Samson into next thread, call it fuckin. 42-2.

(of course I say that and chrome immediately starts working again. Fingers crossed this means my laptop wants to behave)
You approach the prince, having no idea what to do. Of course you're going to try your best, not just let the kid be miserable, but... Man, you don't know where to begin. You know next to nothing about his kid, bar his heroic feats and exploits, and you know yourself well enough to know you can't relate to a person on "heroism" alone.

Getting over closer to him, he looks... Shit, 15, you estimate (well into 16, you later learn, but. If you weren't remotely okay losing your mother in your 20s, he's too young to lose his sister).

"...hey," he says.

"Uh, hey," you reply, smiling awkwardly. "I'm, a, uh... Samson, bard, former leader of the Holmstead resistance."

"Heh..." Dyrus smiles, sadly, "you know, Via and I've really wanted to meet you for the longest time. We were excited about it before, uh..."

You wince a bit, feeling the situation too grim to tease him about just who Via might be. "Yeah, I'm... Honestly, I'm sorry. I've lost relatives to this war too, so I know what you're going through. How... sudden it is."

"The feeling like there's a million things you could've done to make it different?"

You nod. "I... Sincerely wish we could've met under better terms, but. I'll always be in touch. I'd love to see the world without the Empire, so I'll travel awhile after publishing my old friend's works for him..."

"Old friend?" Dyrus asks. "Wait, you're from Holmstead, so... Would that be Raleigh?"

You nod. "We... weren't terribly close, but he entrusted his writings on King Augustus to me just in case this happened."

"...it's my fault he died, got turned into a Deadlord," Dyrus says, looking to the ground. "So... Sorry for not saving his life from Waldrick when I had the chance. I know a lot of people were devastated when he died, too..."

>A. You forgive him
>B. You don't blame him!
>C. Write-in response
>D. ...

>B. You don't blame him!

>B. You don't blame him!

Losing a solid hour and most of the momentum is pretty fucking heavy for a chapter that's supposed to involve a big-ass battle, though. And for pacing reasons, I can't just cliffhanger it and move onto the next set of chapters. The events of this battle need to be resolved for Rene's plot to advance.

Way I see it, there's two options here. We could 1) try to keep the thread alive until tomorrow night and I'll just finish it tomorrow (I'd need to know you guys could stick with me two nights in a row for that), or 2) have Dyrus and Samson conveniently sit this battle out for in-universe reasons and have them just participate in the aftermath-planning.

I'd be down with either if you guys were, but obviously one is easier than the other.

I suggest the aftermath. I would have pick to keep the thread alive but I need to sleep early tonight unless some other kind anons keep the thread alive.

I'm not certain that keeping the thread alive isn't strictly necessary, since you could just do the 42-2 thing that was mentioned earlier. I could probably manage to keep it alive if necessary anyway, provided my alarm works as intended and there's no sudden upswing in board speed. Either way, I'd be present for the thread's resumption.

youtube.com/watch?v=ZhI410LOP5Y

"Hey, I don't blame you," you promise in your kindest voice. "I ran away from that same fight, remember? I think you were even traveling with King Augustus when I met him briefly. While running away."

"Yeah, but... We were there to fight and protect Raleigh and stuff, while you were all civilians!"

"It was your first ever real battle," you say, "and the Battle of Holmstead was a disaster for us. You were... How old were you at the time, anyway?"

"Fifteen," Dyrus says, "but..."

When it's clear he has no follow-up for that 'but,' you continue, "I was twenty-two at the time, and being AWAY from it, hell, being attacked by bandits on the way there... I couldn't stomach fighting them, nearly made myself sick just by killing one to save people. Even in Central, you wouldn't have been considered an adult yet."

"I... I guess. But still..."

"But nothing," you say, "you have your whole life ahead of you, even with all this horrible tragedy looming over you. Find something you love doing, get good at it... Take it from me again, constant reflection over all you could've done better does nothing to help you cope."

"I..." Dyrus blinks, looking up at you. "Like I said, Via and I have always wanted to learn how to properly sing... We're pretty much self-taught, and not bad, but I think we could be better."

>A. You're not much of a teacher, but you've improvised your way through plenty already!
>B. You'd be glad to help!
>C. No can do
>D. Write-in response
The "outright giving up and segmenting the thread" idea was for in case it didn't improve at all tonight. I guess I'll put it into an in-story vote thing, a "skip this war shit, this kid needs a break" or "prepare to fight by princey's side!" thing.

>B. You'd be glad to help!

>A. You're not much of a teacher, but you've improvised your way through plenty already!
>B. You'd be glad to help!
Can't resist heartwarming friendship and helping Dyrus' mental health.

"I mean... Up-front warning, I've pretty much improvised and gotten lucky with everything worth a damn I've ever done. Even the one time I taught my fiancee how to have the same refreshing quality to her dance as my song..." It feels good, using that word. Fiancee.

"It's fine with me!"

youtube.com/watch?v=TLZGtwR57d8

"Then... I'd be glad to help!" You say, smiling warmly. "Consider me a musical tutor to you and this... Via."

"Man, she's going to be so excited," Dyrus says. "I mean, she won't... Show it much, but she's almost as upset about all of this as me. She puts on a cool face a lot of the time, but... Yeah, she's really sensitive."

"It'll be a delight working with you, then."

Dyrus goes off to tell this "Via" about what's just transpired, looking... Well, not ecstatic, but actually a little happyish. Which is a huge deal, you know.

"...you've certainly gotten him excited," a poised-sounding voice says from behind you. Turning around, you see a blue-haired woman, who looks approximately a decade younger than your own parents, but... She has that similar look of stoic determination that your mother had at her most serious.

"Oh, er... I mean. Would you be his mother, I mean Queen Hauteclere? Should I be bowing?" You ask, stammering a bit. She's as intimidating as your mother too.

"The formality won't be necessary," she says, "I just... Wanted to thank you. I worried about him immensely. We just found out about Laurise yesterday, and the first thing I said to him after we went our separate ways for the day was that he needed to be prepared to march out this morning."

"I mean, you couldn't really be behind schedule on this," you say, trying not to offend the queen.

"Precisely," she says, "but... I worry that putting on a strong face only made his own demeanor worse. Had he not been spoken to, he might have done something foolish in the battle ahead."

>A. Maybe he needs a break
>B. You'll protect him

Er, if it wasn't clear. This is the choice in question with meta consequences.

>A. Maybe he needs a break

>A. Maybe he needs a break

"With all due respect, your Majesty, Dyrus is still a teenager, one who's been through things no adult should have to experience," you say. "Perhaps it would be wise to order him off of the battlefield, give him a chance to breathe, given the circumstances."

"You have a point there," Hauteclere says, "but I doubt he would accept sitting idly by with his grandfather while the rest of us risked our lives."

"Then perhaps if this 'Via' and I stayed back as well? Sir Jovan can be sentimental, I'm sure he'd have no problem with it."

"If you say so," she says, "then I'll entrust you to keep him company for the battle. Perhaps tutor him in things outside of combat and politics."

You nod. "It would be an honor."

Jovan, as you suspected, has no objections to your sitting this fight out with the young prince, his grandfather, and his... Whatever the maid is to him, and in Dyrus' camp he sees off a pair of wyvern-riding sisters.

"Are you two sure you'll be able to handle this? I know she was one of your best friends, too..." Dyrus asks them.

"Thanks for the concern," the elder sister says, "but... I am a knight, not a princess. This is what I'm supposed to be doing, and I won't be cruel enough to leave you without your favorite wyvern instructor!"

"And... I know Laurise wouldn't want me to get hurt because of her. She's really selfless like that, and would rather her friends take as much time as possible before joining her in the afterlife!" The younger one says.

On top of that, a nearby pegasus knight who had alerted your notice speaks up. "And I won't allow myself keel over before I know that Director Belinda is rotting in the ground. That's my solemn promise as your bodyguard."

"Well then," the cute blonde maid at his side says, "I wish you all the best of luck... You can all make do without us for a battle, what with the Staff of Katri's existence."

Whew, this kid's popular with girls. He sees those three off with a wave.

>A. Write-in dialogue
>B. ...

*avoided your notice, not "alerted your notice"

>A. "Hmm, so the maid, the bodyguard and the childhood friend...I think I read a play like that once."

>A. "Hmm, so the maid, the bodyguard and the childhood friend...I think I read a play like that once."

"A maid, a bodyguard, and a childhood friend..." You shut your eyes and shake your head with amusement. "It sounds like something out of a play I've read."

"You say something?!" Dyrus asks, genuinely not having heard you all too well.

The maid, Via, you presume, just gives you an icy expression and cold smile. The chills running down your spine tell you she heard your little comment loud and clear.

The look fades into a less threatening expression soon enough, though, and they lead you to meet the prince's grandfather.

"So you're the Samson I've heard so much about..." Squinting, he scrutinizes you awhile. "You don't have the eyes of a warrior."

"I'm... Sorry?" You say, not remotely sorry, but not wanting to offend the old man. You've heard that he was, in his prime, a very deadly Gerxel warrior.

"Don't be," he says, smiling sadly, "people who can revel in killing have little business ruling the world."

"That... reminds me of something an Imperial Director once said," you say. "Hera, did you know her?"

"Know her?" Darren asks. "Why, I knew her when she had only just become one of Director Waldrick's peons. He was very sympathetic to arena-survivors."

"And then he allowed things like sublevel two to exist," you say, unable to help yourself from bitter reflection. It's a bad habit you're trying to break out of.

"We can save our forlorn reflection for later," Via says, "but for now... Let us have some levity. Dyrus says you'll tutor us in the way of song?"

"Ah, yes, of course." You flip through a songbook of various tunes, some of your own penning, others even older than your parents, wondering what would be the right thing to use to teach these two, while Darren excuses himself, blaming himself for having briefly sobered the mood.

>A. Suggestively refer them to a love song
>B. A heroic ballad
>C. An annoyingly catchy song about ocean waves. There was a brief time where it was the only damn thing people sang in Holmstead
>D. Write-in

>B. A heroic ballad

>B. A heroic ballad

"This is something Raleigh, Millicent, and I learned from a pair of travelers," you explain as you introduce them to the song, deliberately neglecting to mention that you're fairly certain it was the late Biff and Byron who passed it along to you guys, "and the first time I performed it was also the first time my fiancee looked at me as anything but Raleigh's weird acquaintance. It was, uh, for a little show she was putting on in Holmstead, a little before the battle. Point is, it has a special place in my heart."

"What's it about?" Via asks.

"It's a... Pretty simple thing, all in all," he says. "Story of a villager-girl who rises to glory, finds love with a pegasus knight, becomes one of the closest fighters to her country's prince's side... Really, the only thing besides an amazing melody that makes the story different from other hero-ballads is the whole heroine and pegasus knight part. Anyway, enough about its backstory! I should be using it to teach you!"

You find yourself drawn back to that performance, alongside Raleigh and Millicent... The last days of independent Holmstead, of carefree Samson oversleeping.

"That is a pretty melody," Dyrus says, smiling a bit as he and Via practice in its many twists and turns. "Very inspiring stuff!"

"Indeed," Via agrees, looking over to Dyrus, "and I've already begun to notice ourselves subtly improving..."

"Eheh, yeah..." Dyrus agrees. There's still a bit of sadness in his eyes, but... He's moving past it well thanks to your intervention.

>A. You need to step out for a moment (and just happen to give them a moment to themselves...)
>B. Alright, let's continue...
>C. Write-in dialogue
>D. ...

>B. Alright, let's continue...

"Alright, whenever you're ready," you say, "we can continue the lesson."

The maid and prince nod, occupying themselves all the battle through with things completely unrelated to recent tragedies.

Soon enough, the report of Assistant-Director Lange's defeat and the capture of Fort Larissa comes to you.

youtube.com/watch?v=kOh7klO3qTk

"I've just received word that Bishop Lisa has fallen, just South of here," Hauteclere says. "This is... Most unfortunate, but it will not be in vain. With whoever is causing trouble in Rene's midst apparently in possession of the Witch Pendant, having no intent of letting them escape with it, this is a prime opportunity to capture her at long last."

"But what of Director Belinda?" Darren asks. "Surely you don't intend to leave her unchecked for this personal errand."

"Hardly," Jovan says. "General Taniel is already moving his forces to surround the town from the South, so if we send a small team in from the North..." Jovan turns towards you. "Samson, I think you and your 'Holmstead resistance' allies will be precisely fit for the job. On top of Jack and Riley, of course..."

"Let the Lords of Chance go with them," Fortune speaks out, "our comrades were slaughtered by the bandits they've aligned with, and they hold my nephew hostage. I have no more intent of letting his kidnappers get away than I did when he was a small child."

"...Mallory?" You ask, a bit out of place. "Hey, I'm Marion's son!"

"It's Fortune now," she says, "and... Heh. Small world! So, uh, Queen Hauteclere, can I?"

"Of course," she says. "Just... Make certain that Rene and this 'traitor' both survive."

"If we're moving in on Rene, then I think it's time I say who her mole is," Darren says. "The one who freed me, stole the pages and that Ice Stone is..."

After the meeting, you speak to Dyrus once more. "So, you've gotta set off again already?"

>A. It'll be over before he knows it
>B. Sorry about that
>C. Yeah
>D. Write-in response

>>B. Sorry about that
>>C. Yeah

"Er... Yeah, sorry about that," you say, sincerely. "If I could stay with you I would, but..."

"Hey, I get how it is. I am from a military family, after all. Orders are orders, right?"

"As long as there's nothing... human rights-breaking about them," you make sure to point out.

"Of course, of course!" Dyrus says, nodding. "And... I know you won't be gone long. You're just not the sort of person who dies."

"Of course... But even when I'm away, remember all the other friends you have. People love and support you, so let them in if you're struck with grief again."

"Honestly, it's... pretty stressful how much people love me," Dyrus says, rubbing the back of his head. "I mean, Laurise dying really made me think what a selfish thing to be stressed over that was, but... I've been thinking about one of the things she said to me."

"Oh?" You ask.

"Yeah... When we were fighting Methodius, thinking about everyone who had died, she refused to think that every death that led up to this point was in vain. It's a horrible, horrible thing, but she and Via both said that we need to honor the dead by not putting our lives on hold to die with them. That we need to live as they couldn't."

"That's exactly what I tell myself," you say, smiling. "You're a pretty mature kid, Dyrus."

"I can't afford not to be," he says, smiling sadly. "Also, uh... I know that mom specifically said to capture Rene, but I just wanted to re-emphasize that... Please, take her alive. Mother and I would both hate to lose both of my sisters."

"...I'll try my best," you say, internally wondering just how much Rene could truly be called their family. She doesn't know about her blood, and certainly wouldn't care if she found out.

You can't exactly tell that to his face, though, and you're sure as hell gonna try not to disappoint him.

>to be continued next thread
Thanks for playing, as always. Update twitter/ask.fm are qmgrandflocto, and I'll be around in-thread to discuss anything for awhile.

Thanks for running, Octo.

Always a pleasure.

Writing this stuff makes it worth putting up with things like that little hour-long mess of technical difficulty.