Urban Warlock Quest III

>>Try a door, it wouldn't hurt to make allies. It sure as hell wouldn't hurt to talk about this supernatural shit with someone that is not obviously, clearly, and without a doubt trying to play you.

>Try a door, it wouldn't hurt to make allies. It sure as hell wouldn't hurt to talk about this supernatural shit with someone that is not obviously, clearly, and without a doubt trying to play you

Yea, you're a friendly guy, you can make friends. You try door number one, the one nearest to the elevator. A muscled man in leather trousers, axe in his hand opens it. Upon seeing your face he shouts a wordless challenge.

'Sorry, wrong room,' you say and close the door.

You knock on the next one, and you wait for just long enough that you feel like moving on.

You hear a woman's voice.

'Well 'n, what brings you down to our old room, then boy?'
'Just meeting the neighbors,' you say.
'Hold on, boy, hold on, I'll be right with 'ya,' the woman says.

She opens the door, the woman is black, a little on the fat side and at least sixty, sixty-five. As far as the madness you've seen over the last few days, she doesn't rate too high- her clothes are over colorful, and she seems to have more gold teeth than bone, but nothing you couldn't see on the street in one of the bigger cities.

The room behind her is stranger than the woman. For one thing, a cooking stove has been built in to the wall where the desk stands in your room. On the far wall there is some structure that can only be described as an altar. It has a headless chicken on it, twitching and bleeding over it.

'Well, you got me to move all the way here, at least come in, have some tea, keep an old woman company.'

>Accept her offer, have some tea.
>'Thank you ma'am, but I'm just making quick introductions. Mark Blaine, pleasure to meet you,' and leave
>Other

>>Accept her offer, have some tea.
Meh. She seems pretty legit.

>Accept her offer, have some tea.

>>'Thank you ma'am, but I'm just making quick introductions. Mark Blaine, pleasure to meet you,' and leave
Fucking vodoo bullshit

We literally contracted a fae. Who are the literal worst things alive.
And being rude increases our chance of Bad Shit happening to us

>>Accept her offer, have some tea.

'Uh, sure, Ms.?' you say.
'Oh, Boy, I know you're new around these parts, but you don't go askin' that kind of thing around these parts,' the old woman says with a smile.
'Of course, ma'am,'

You walk in there and close the door. The moment that the door's closed behind you, the woman straightens her back and in an instant, where a kindly old grandmother stood, now stands someone much more formidable.

'Boy, you bought that Southern talkin', sweet tea makin', kindly old grandmother act in less than a second. Hell, I bet you'd actually drunk the damned tea if I made it,' the woman says.
'I'm sorry, what?'
'God damn it, you might be new, but haven't you noticed what your last few days have been like?'
'How could you know about-'
'Oh, I am just guessing, boy, but I would bet the rest of my teeth that you've been dropping in that there bed of yours every night like it was made out of clouds,'
'Well yeah, but again, how would you know?'
'Because that's how it goes, boy, that's how it goes. And if that's the way it goes, in these parts that is, what do you reckon that means about me?'
'Good enough to still be alive?' you say, remembering what your cousin said about this seventy year old hit-man you once met back in Chicago.

'God damn right, so if you move even a little bit too quick for my liking, you're never leaving this room, boy. Devil knows the nice things I could get if I traded in bits of you in,'

>'Hell, lady, I'm just new, as you said. I just want to know what's going on.'
>'Master Ash needs my help, I thought maybe I could ask around for help, you know, favor for a favor.'
>'If that is how it is I will not be bothering you anymore. Good day, madam, I say good day.'
>Other

>>'Master Ash needs my help, I thought maybe I could ask around for help, you know, favor for a favor.'
In all fairness we are, in fact, safe here because we're under Ash's roof. If we came to harm then it would reflect poorly on him, as we are explicitly under his protection here.

>>'If that is how it is I will not be bothering you anymore. Good day, madam, I say good day.'

>'Master Ash needs my help, I thought maybe I could ask around for help, you know, favor for a favor.'

>'If that is how it is I will not be bothering you anymore. Good day, madam, I say good day.
Ghost sound of Ash banging on our door. Loudly.

'Really? Under Ash's roof?' You say.

The woman hesitates and spits on the ground.

'Pah, Ash ain't a god. You shouldn't count on his protection always being here,'
'But it IS here now. You cannot do shit to me,'
'Oh fine, so I cannot do shit to you. Maybe I'm just an old woman that wants to scare the shit out of a young boy,'
'Look, we're all in the same boat here, I imagine. I owe Ash a favor, I imagine, so do you. But if that is how you introduce yourself, then I think we should just do our best to stay out of each other's hair,' you say.
'Might be best. Might be we might've worked something out. You think fast enough, boy. I think I'll be seeing you whatever we agree upon here.'
'Hell, maybe. Shit, I need to think about this whole thing some more.'

You start walking out, and there is a knock on the door. A much younger woman, of mixed parentage opens it right after knocking.

'Grandma, can we practice early today? I need to go out tonight,' she says and notices you. There is some family resemblance. The other woman's a few years younger than you, maybe twenty two, three, 'Oh, who's the gentleman, grandma?'

>Just walk away.
>'Mark Blaine, a pleasure.'
>'Jack Nielsen. I'm just going.'

>>'Mark Blaine, a pleasure.'

>'Mark Blaine, a pleasure.'
And where are we going tonight?
Schmooze like a dumbass

>>'Jack Nielsen. a pleasure.'
Don't use our real name unless it's needed.

>Just walk away.
>'Oh, Boy, I know you're new around these parts, but you don't go askin' that kind of thing around these parts,' the old woman says with a smile.
Probably best not to give our real name.

Fuck, you're right. Changing name in
To this

I think she's actually harmless desu. Just trying to punk a newbie.

It's better to be safe.

Also, the two options have different connotations imo. Fake name is more "Fuck you I'm leaving" and real name is more "Well this went bad but I hope we can work together sometime"

Maybe it's just me though.
Also, we gave Ash our real name. And literally everyone else we've met.

Ash probably wouldn't tell them

Except we gave our real name to the guy in charge here.
And the guys we're stealing shit for.
And literally everyone we've met so far.
And a fucking fae
And the fucking CRIMSON KING.

Just because we made mistakes so far it doesn't mean we have to keep making them.

Going all "Oh man better be paranoid" right now is like wanting fire insurance immediately after your house burns down, for a burnt out husk.

Except it's not a mistake, and she's not actually all that untrustworthy? And she already implied she was just trying to freak us the fuck out?
And it's not inherently a mistake. It's a general show of trust that says "Hey hope we can move past this" instead of "Fuck off, I don't trust you or anyone else"

Trust is something that has to be earned and you want to freely give it away

'Jack Nielsen, a pleasure, and who might you be?'
'Hmm, most everyone already knows your name, Mark. Has grandma been scaring you? Grandma?'
'Just havin' fun, dear, don't pay me no mind,'
'Ma'am, your grandmother's an asshole,'
'Don't you go talking like that about my grandma. But yes, I am aware,'
'Can I get your name then? Seeing as you already know mine?'
'Kayla. And it's the real one,'
'Is it actually bad that I've been spreading my real name around?'
'Probably would be more stupid to share it with criminals or something. Names have got some power, but grandma says they cannot kill you or control you on their own,'
'Most times, Kayla, most times,'
'You end every lesson with 'most times', grandmother,'
'Because it's always true, girl,'
'Mark, a pleasure to meet you, but I feel a lesson coming on, and I would like to get on with it,'

>'What are you learning here?'
>'Sure, it's been a pleasure, bye.'
>'Wait, if this has mostly been theater, can we start things over and see if we can help each other out.'
>'I have no idea what's going on here, and I don't think I want to. Let's stay out of each other's way. No offence.'
>Other

Yes? Because trust is easy to give. The first time. And it's nice and polite, which frankly I'd prefer our character to be, as opposed to a super paranoid asshole.
And it's not like she's even an evil person who's going to use it against us. This isn't some eldritch fucker on the street, this is our fucking neighbour.
We're both under Ash's protection, and she has quite literally NO REASON TO USE IT AGAINST US.
Paranoia is all well and good but there's a time and place for shadowruns and it is *not* here and now.

>>'I have no idea what's going on here, and I don't think I want to. Let's stay out of each other's way. No offence.'

>>'What are you learning here?'
Oh boy, it totally didn't matter, and was the more polite option. Who fucking knew.
I did when she outright stated she was fucking with us literally one post ago

>'Oh fine, so I cannot do shit to you. Maybe I'm just an old woman that wants to scare the shit out of a young boy,'
She was just fucking with us, so we can't be polite and ask anything? Really? Come on, can we not just be SEMI polite?

Being polite is boring

Being an asshole is boring.
And doing everything alone is stupid.
She's a potential resource, and you just want to ignore her because what, she fucked with you a little and you fell for it?

Yes

>'Sure, it's been a pleasure, bye.'
Let's move on. Maybe we'll run into someone else elsewhere. Ask Gwynn about shielding from Red King and all that

'Hey, sure, I won't be getting in your way. What are you learning here?'
'Witchcraft, of course.'
'Huh, sounds fun.'
'So, about-'
'Look, man, sorry, but this is a kind of a delicate thing to learn. And It'll take me all the time I have. If you want to talk about it, try to catch me in the lobby, I'm there most days for lunch around one,'
'Won't eat nothing I cook,' the old woman says.
'Grandma, you don't cook, you make concoctions,'
'Pah,'
'Alright, well, good-bye then,' you say, and you leave.

Eeh but that felt awkward. Are there no people in this place that can hold a normal, sane, and reasonable conversation? In any case, you do not feel up to trying to meet-and-greet random neighbors, so you take the elevator down to the lobby.

It is around one in the afternoon when you reach downstairs, and the lobby is much more active than it was last morning- you left before eight, after all- but nowhere near the pandemonium this place becomes later in the night.

It is also somewhat more obviously weird. In the neon light, you could just about convince yourself that the red-skinned and well-curved demon woman is just someone in make up, or that her skin color is just a trick of light, but in the daylight you know what she really is. There are three men, drinking seriously, and all of them are wearing the most obvious robes and wizard hats you've seen, all of them more than forty years old.

And that is just the beginning. The weird and wonderful things of the Neon Elvii seem to be without end. You find Gwynn at the bar, drinking a frosty dry martini.

'Isn't it a little early for that?' you say. Gwynn smiles.
'I am a Lady of frost and hunt. I will not allow the mortal concept of time to get in the way of my drinking habits,' she says.

>Hell, with the kind of day's we've been having, I think I'll join you.
>Feel free to finish it, we should get going in a little bit.
>Feel free to finish it, but we should talk about the Crimson King soonest.

>>Feel free to finish it, but we should talk about the Crimson King soonest.

>>Feel free to finish it, but we should talk about the Crimson King soonest.

>>Feel free to finish it, but we should talk about the Crimson King soonest.

>Feel free to finish it, but we should talk about the Crimson King soonest
Get some breakfast

>Feel free to finish it, but we should talk about the Crimson King soonest.

'I won't be getting in between you and your drink,'
'Clever child,'
'I won't be getting in between you and your drink, but we really need to talk,'
'Oh? What about?'
'How about that whenever I go outside the Elvii it feels like the Crimson King is on my ass in a few hours?'
'It's an inconvenience. What about it?'
'Inconvenience is one way of putting it. I seem to recall that you weren't exactly calm and collected when we were running away as fast as our feet could carry us last night,'
'Indeed. And you will notice me acting as if it is no big deal. A show of strength is almost as good as the real thing.'
'The Crimson King doesn't strike me like the kind of entity that cares about appearances.'

For the first time you see Gwynn's face to twist in a look of genuine disgust.

'No, it really doesn't. So, what exactly are you asking of me?'
'Well, for one thing, is there anything that can protect us from the King? Hide us?'
'There are a few spells. I have heard they are even relatively simple.'
'So?'
'They are protection magic,' she says, as if it explained everything.
'So?' You say.
'It is not natural for us. It is not natural for any creature magical by nature. What you need is a mortal spellcaster,'
'I am a mortal spellcaster.'
Gwynn laughs, 'Child you are a conduit. An implement. You no more cast magic than an aqueduct is a thunderstorm.'
'What do you mean then?'
'Wizards, learned men that get their magic from books and within. Mortals with demon or fae blood. There are some other sorts of humans that can cast magic, but all of them have one thing in common: they don't want anything to do with you.'
'What? Why?'
'You are an outlaw, as far as they're concerned. Remember Leigh? He was a representative of the legal arm of the human supernatural community. He was fairly tame, from what I've seen. Doubt he would have tortured you, for one. You have, for all intents and purposes, colluded with a demon, you have lain with the devil, you are [cont]

the sort of maleficar that Thou Shalt Not Suffer to Live. They think you're evil.'
'That's bullshit,'
'It's human. What would you do if they attacked you? Fight back, maybe try to kill them. Then, if you succeed, another good wizard is killed by the forces of Darkness. That is before you even consider that most of the entities that mortals can borrow power from are not nearly as fluffy and sweet as I, mortal child.'

>'There's got to be a way to get in touch with one of these people. They cannot all be stick-up-the-ass stuck up assholes'
>'Fine, if we cannot take it fairly, maybe we can steal it. Is there such a thing as amulets against the Crimson King? We could steal one, right?'
>'We don't have to meet anyone ourselves. Arrange for Timmy to go and meet a wizard. It might not work, but they're not going to kill an innocent if they want to keep their moral high ground.'
>Other

>'Fine, if we cannot take it fairly, maybe we can steal it. Is there such a thing as amulets against the Crimson King? We could steal one, right?'

>>'There's got to be a way to get in touch with one of these people. They cannot all be stick-up-the-ass stuck up assholes'
>>'Fine, if we cannot take it fairly, maybe we can steal it. Is there such a thing as amulets against the Crimson King? We could steal one, right?'
Option B for if negotiations fail

Supporting. Might be worth asking why the Crimson King didn't do more back then. Is it because of the contract?

'And all of them hate all warlocks?'
'Yes.'
'All of them are human?'
'Indeed,'
'Then I don't buy it.'
'Excuse me?'
'No group of humans is 'all' anything. There must be someone that I can talk to.'
'I would strongly advise against it, child, but if you insist, there might be a way to find one, a wizard or a half-breed of some sort,'
'What's the difference? Practically speaking?'
'Wizards will know magic better. Half-breeds will be better at it, if they remember to practice half as much. A protection spell such as what you want would be fairly simple,'
Wait a minute,
'How the hell does Ashe's protection work? He doesn't exactly strike me as the mortal type.'
'The enchantments over Elvii are older than Ash. He had some talent, when he was alive, or so I believe, but he could not keep the spell going so long after his death if it was tied to his person. I would guess that it protects the guests at the direction of the owner, or some such complex spell. I truly could not tell you more. Protection magic is entirely alien to me.'
'Why does the King just not whack us as soon as we leave here? Hell, why are we still alive, if she's as powerful as you seem to think?'
'It. It's an it, my Mark, and don't you ever forget it. And while I do not dare even approaching the idea of understanding it, if I had to guess I would say it is most likely because it does not want us dead. Or, perhaps there is some cosmic force I do not understand directing its actions. You were right with your first question- we should not be questioning the whys and the hows of the King. We should be trying to figure out a way to stop it from killing us.'
'You said you had a way to find wizards?'
'It used to be nigh impossible. A wizard can hide among other mortals almost seamlessly. Things have changed lately, however.'
'How so?'
'Can you find a copy of the, ah 'Yellow Pages?''

>Start looking for a wizard, someone well versed in magical theory.
>Look for someone that has innate magic.
>Other

>>Start looking for a wizard, someone well versed in magical theory.
I want some kind of down on his luck jaded salaryman wizard accomplice

>Start looking for a wizard, someone well versed in magical theory.

>Start looking for a wizard, someone well versed in magical theory

I trust training and hard work over talent monkeys anyday

'The fucking yellow pages? Didn't they go out of business or something?'
'I scarcely understand what they are. Some sort of a catalog of all humans? But no, as I understand it is kept afloat largely by humans advertising their magical services under flimsy code,'
'Why the yellow pages?'
'Oh, I could not begin to try to understand. As far as I know one wizard decided that advertising out in the open would be good for his business, and ever since more and more of them have started using it.'
'Right. That makes a sort of sense, I guess. We should look for a wizard, right? Pretty sure matching magical brawn against it isn't really going to work anyways.'
'I would tend to agree, but wizards tend to be even more stuck-up when it comes to being anti-pact. Definitely the wiser option- if we can get one to co-operate.'
'Back-up plan is to steal all of ones amulets and hope one of them stick,'
'That could work. Sounds even more foolish than trying to talk to one, however.'

Yellow pages, hell, these used to be stocked by every payphone, but hey, technology marches on, the only payphone you've seen in the past five years was-

Huh, yeah, you're quite certain you saw a pay-phone up on thirteenth floor. Now you think of it, there was a large book of yellow pages next to it.

'Alright, let's get back to our room, I think I know where we can find the book,'

Gwynn finishes her drink in one swing, and the both of you go back up to your floor. You pick up the book and you take it in your room.

Gwynn explains the code to you, hell, it is barely a one, and you're seeing advertisements for dozens of magical services

>Try to look for the most competent ones, good references, professional adverts, more strongly coded messages.
>Try to look for someone desperate enough that they might be willing to take your money. Low prices, garish adverts, and a general sense of despair.
>You've got a good thing going with the strange. Just look for the weirdest advert you can find.

>48705024
little late but i'm here

>>You've got a good thing going with the strange. Just look for the weirdest advert you can find.

>You've got a good thing going with the strange. Just look for the weirdest advert you can find.

>Try to look for someone desperate enough that they might be willing to take your money. Low prices, garish adverts, and a general sense of despair

We want someone not well off rough to refuse business. We can assess how good they might be at the meet.

>Try to look for the most competent ones, good references, professional adverts, more strongly coded messages.

'Sup, man, you lookin' for a , uh what was the code, right oh whatever, man if you're looking for a wizard that's cool. Pretend like that was a coded message, cool? I've got enough problems without getting the Circle mad at me, right. So, right, looking for a wizard in code? I'm one, I do magic and everything. Protection spells, evocations, I could probably pull up someone to do divinations for you too. Fuck, that was supposed to be in code too. Call me.

Right, call this number. Followed by a phone number. Ask for Jacovitz.

'How about this one?' you say.
'The man clearly seems mad. But it does look like he is not in the best of the relationships with the Circle,'
'The Circle is that magical police thing, right?'
'Something like that, yes.'
'So, do you think someone like this could be any good at magic?'
'Sanity, or even intelligence, has very little to do with how good someone is at magic. I would also bet that the advert itself was written using magic, likely a direct transcription of speech. Not exactly a shining endorsement, but anyone competent should do.'
'Do you really think this guy could be competent?'
'Oh, more than likely. The higher mysteries are known to mush mortal minds.'
'Mush?'
'The human mind is not that well suited to magic, and while not all good wizards are insane, and not all insane wizards are good, there is some correlation.'
'Might as well give it a shot, I guess,' you say, and dial the number on your hotel phone.

'Hi, man, Mark, is it?'
'Hello, I thought you had to contract someone to do divination for you,'
'Yeah, funny story that. Got a year's worth of divination for my phone calls. Makes me seem y'know, professional, if I can guess who's calling,'
'Alright. You do protection spells,'
'Yeah, man, yeah, I'm great at protection spells. What d'you need protecting from, man?'
'The Crimson King,'

The wizard on the other end of the line audibly spits out some sort of a liquid.

'Holy shit, dude,[cont]

you cannot talk about business that serious over the phone. Fucking hell, how'd that happen?'
'I thought I shouldn't talk about it over the phone,'
'Right, no way, don't explain shit, we can meet, my place,'
'Do you think you can help,'
'Maybe, fuck, depends on shit. Dude, honest, no way can I figure this shit out over the phone. The address is in the book. The code for my wards is 'Mellon','
'Why would you give me the password just like that,'
'Man, if you could kill me, i'd recognize you. The wards are for enemies I know I have. When will you get here?'

>This guy couldn't protect a snake from a rat. Keep looking.
>Arrange a meeting.

>Arrange a meeting.
I like the cut of his jib

>This guy couldn't protect a snake from a rat. Keep looking.

>Arrange a meeting

You look at Gwynn. She should really play poker with that face of hers.

'Sure, I can be there in an hour or so,'
'Cool, I'll prepare what I can, see you, man.'

You hang up.

'Well, I guess we're going to meet this Jacovitz.'
'Bad feeling about this?'
'Wouldn't have agreed to meet if I thought he'd screw us. Not so sure about his credentials, but I guess we'll see.'
'I wouldn't worry overmuch about it. In the worst case, we should be able to get away. And while I hate to rely on previous patterns to guess what the Crimson King is up to, I do not think it wants us dead. Not quite yet, at least, so we might have a chance to go out and come back before anything dreadful happens,'

>Go straight to the wizard.
>You gave yourself some spare time to get there. Spend some of your money, call someone else, do something before you leave.
>Other

>>Go straight to the wizard.

>You gave yourself some spare time to get there. Spend some of your money, call someone else, do something before you leave.
A weapon would be nice

>>You gave yourself some spare time to get there. Spend some of your money, call someone else, do something before you leave.
We need a weapon in case something goes wrong.

>Go straight to the wizard.

Lets not spend longer than we have to unprotected.

>Go straight to the wizard

In the end, going without protection is a scarier idea to you than going unarmed. A wizard could probably protect himself against a gun anyways, and you really really want to have that protection.

You take a cab to the wizard's address and find it to be an apartment complex. Yeah, in Vegas. Not too run down, but certainly nothing fancy. You walk in and take the elevator up to the third floor where the address is supposed to be.

You are just about to check the apartment number, when you notice that one of the doors is framed by two gargoyle statues on either side.

You approach, are about to knock, but Gwynn holds your hand back.

'Child, you truly do not want to mess with a wizard's wards,'
You groan.
'But you know where that password is from,'
You look down and see a doormat. On it there is a stylized door in silver thread, on a blue background. Letters in a fancy script say 'Speak Friend and Enter.'

'I do not see the issue, Child, clearly it means that if you are a friend, you know the password and can speak it, then enter.'

You sigh.

'Mellon,' you say in your best Ian McKellen

The door creaks open. The room is tidy, if somewhat small. There are hundreds, if not thousands of books arranged in stacks at every wall. A globe, a crystal ball and a silver plate of water stand in the center of the room. The decor is mostly textiles- rugs, carpet, a soft looking sofa and a reading chair. It looks dark, and this appearance of darkness is enhanced by the curtains being drawn.

'Coming, man, coming,' you hear the familiar voice of the wizard.

He walks up to you. This is a man in his late thirties, somewhat overweight, wearing a plaid bath-robe, pajama pants and a flannel shirt. In his right hand he carries a glass of some sort.

As soon as he sees Gwynn, his laid-back and simple demeanor evaporates, he drops his glass, grabs a vase full of flowers and water, moving more quickly than you would have thought possible, [cont.]

and throws the water and the flowers out of it, and onto your companion. Gwynn is thoroughly soaked and Jacovitz shouts 'Holy Water, Bitch!'

'I am no demon, mortal spellslinger,' Gwynn says, with a good deal of ice in her voice.

'Shit, Nuen Mana Lassa Quen,' he says, and you have heard no rapper speak more quickly.

Gwynn freezes completely solid. You have seen her be stone still before, but right now her stillness is clearly not by her choice.

>Tackle the wizard while he's distracted.
>Talk him down
>Other

>>Talk him down

>Talk him down

>Talk him down

Roll 1d100, under 30

Rolled 32 (1d100)

Check my nat 100

Rolled 64 (1d100)

Rolled 83 (1d100)

Rolled 6 (1d100)

You raise up your hands.
'Sir, please, hear me out,'
'You've got, like a minute. Wait that might be too long. Whatever, speak, warlock.'
'We do not want to hurt you, I truly need your help,'
'Shit, man, I do not have any good reason to not turn you away,'
'Please. All I said on the phone was true.'
This gives him pause.
'Faeries. Fucking faeries. Cannot trust them. Cannot trust anyone they've ever spoken to.'
'I have seen the King. It wants me dead.'
'Nah, man, if it wanted you dead you would be. Probably. Or you're stupid powerful and I would be stupid to trust you.'
'Look, I swear I need the help. Maybe it does not want me dead yet, but it is after me.'
Jacovic stands there for fifteen seconds, thinking.
'Fine. You come in. The fairy stays outside.'
'Can you at least unbind her or whatever you've done?'
'She'll be fine. When the water evaporates, or when she figures out the enchantment, she'll be free. Which reminds me, that either you come in right the fuck now, or I slam this door in your face and change the password. Sorry, man, cannot take that chance,'

>Agree
>You're not leaving Gwynn defenseless outside
>Other [no more than five words of speech to convince him, last chance, write-in]

>>Agree

>You're not leaving Gwynn defenseless outside
>Other [no more than five words of speech to convince him, last chance, write-in]

Release her, she stays outside.

Backing

'Release her, she stays outside,' you say
Jacovitz grunts, grabs your collar, pulls you inside, closes the door and says 'Tyel, Metta-Mente,' he shrugs back into his more comfortable slouch, 'happy now?'
'Did you release her?'
'Yeah. She cannot come in. Now, what the fuck have you gotten yourself into, dude?'

>Tell him everything
>Hide some information [write-in]
>'Not important. What is important is, I'm not evil, I've not done anything bad and am not planning to, and the Crimson King will tear my eyes out through my testicles if you don't help me'

>>Tell him everything

>>Hide some information [write-in]
Do not tell him where we are staying, what we do or the nature of our contract.

>>Tell him everything
Except the *exact* nature of our contract

Supporting. Don't mention we are criminals either

Backing