Modern Necromancy Quest Redux: Thread Ten

>>989585
“No, I’ve got Syke’s grimoire as well. Wish I knew where to find another one with more about necromancy in it.” You ask, giving a bit of a grimace as you remember your foray into Arachnis Books and the disastrous consequences. “Last time I got my hands on one it cost me more than I’d care to pay again.”
Enkidu nods sagely.

“Yeah, they’re usually not easy to get a hold of. I’ve got a bit of a lead on one, but it’s not the easiest thing in the world, so it’s taking some time.” he shakes his head ruefully “I’ve got a whole base of operations set up and more than one semi-permanent physical summon out looking for it, but some things you just have to do yourself.”
Huh, that’s interesting. You wonder how he manages his offerings if he’s got so many different summons up at once.

You notice a few of the other inhabitants of the Court getting curious about the little alcove you’re in. Seems you don’t have much time left to talk to Enkidu before your brief moment of privacy is broken. Is there anything else you’d like to ask him before the two of you head your separate ways?

>Yes, ask him something else (specify what you’d like to ask)
>No, we’re done here. Go talk to Oberon again
>No, we’re done here. Talk to the other members of the Court.

>>1005959
>>No, we’re done here. Go talk to Oberon again
hi skelly

>>1005959
Some way to contact him without the court bothering us
In a neutral place, like a coffee shop.
He should appreciate being in neutral ground, considering his previous experiences

>>1005981
Also, ask him if his shade has a name

>>1005959
>Ask Enkidu for a way to contact him outside of the court.
Perhaps an anonymous online chat medium?

>>1005981
>>1005993
>>1005991
Writing for asking a few last things
>>1005973
hi Anon

Enkidu seems to have noticed the increasingly interested non-humans as well, and looks just as ready to head off as you. Before he can step out of the alcove, though, you grab his sleeve.

“Hey, we need a way to talk after we’ve left. Could we meet at a coffee shop or something?”
He snorts.

“Unless you feel like commuting to Connecticut, I doubt it. Meeting in person doesn’t seem likely unless we decide to use the Court, which has its obvious problems. Most Unseelie humans don’t tend to spend a lot of time here, and Oberon doesn’t care one way or the other.”

“Fine, then a chatroom or something online.”
He rolls his eyes, but pulls out a scrap of paper and scribbles down a URL before handing it to you. You’ve heard of the site before, one of the more famous free chatroom services. More porn ads in the margins than you’d like, but it’ll do.

“One more thing--” You blurt, starting to regret the question even as it comes out of your mouth. “Does your shade have a name?”
Enkidu gives a surprised laugh, then gives an embarrassed smile.

“Skunkbro. Yours?”

“Cat.” You feel a little better about the tautological name now that you’ve heard his. The two of you share a smile before starting to duck out, but this time it’s Enkidu who stops you.

“Look, about the Seelie...” he hesitates, then rushes through the rest. “Before you make a decision on the Courts, know that they’re not all bad. I’ve got a friend on that side of the aisle. They don’t all actually hate necromancers, but it’s not like they’d go around broadcasting it, you know? It’s frowned upon by the higher ups, and it’s a bit more regimented over there.”
With a final nod, he heads off, towards the door at the far end of the hall leading out of the Court.

Anything else before you return to Oberon?
>Yes, talk to the other members of the Court about how they like it.
>No, return to the front of the hall
>Write-in

>>1006068
>Yes, talk to the other members of the Court about how they like it.
Look around for interesting people

>>1006068
>Yes, talk to the other members of the Court about how they like it.

>>1006197
>>1006235
Writing.

You decide to walk around a little more before talking to Oberon again. After all, if you said you wanted to check out the other members of the Court, why not actually do so? After just a minute of wandering around looking for someone interesting and vaguely humanoid, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turn around, not sure what to expect.

Whatever you had in mind, it wasn’t this. Staring back at you is an unblinking fish’s eye, attached to a totally normal fish head. Except, unlike most fish heads, this one is sticking out of the top of a tuxedo, complete with tails, polished dress shoes, and white kid gloves. It seems proportionately-sized to the body, making it all the more unnerving. The fishy smell you might have expected is absent, and instead a pleasantly floral perfume seems to drift towards you.

“Hello, my dear.” The fish head’s mouth doesn’t move, but a friendly, accented voice that you’d associate with butlers and dry humor addresses you. “I can’t help but notice you seem somewhat lost, a dangerous thing to be in the Winter Court. Perhaps I could be of some assistance to you?”

“Oh? What sort of assistance did you have in mind?” You’re not quite sure whether to try to maintain eye contact with the large, wet fish eye that stares down at you, and after everything that’s happened, you’re feeling more than a little wary. “And what would you get out of it, anyway?”

“Why, point out the main players of the Court, of course!” the fish-head sounds pleased with itself, though there’s no change of expression on its face. “As for my goals...I simply wish to aid a kindred spirit, and perhaps earn a friend in this dangerous place. Is that so reprehensible?”

>Accept the fish-head’s offer.
>Decline the fish-head’s offer (politely)
>Decline the fish-head’s offer (rudely)
>other

>>1006322
>Accept
He is a very dapper fish, after all

>>1006322
>Decline the fish-head’s offer (politely)
yeaaaaahhhh thanks but no thanks

>>1006346
>>1006352
Five more minutes for a tiebreaker, then I roll a d2 to decide.

>>1006346
Make it clear that, while we appreciate the favor, this won't make us besties right off the bat.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>1006352
>>1006346
1 means accept
2 means decline politely

File: FishHeadNereus.jpg (59KB, 408x614px) Image search: [Google]

59KB, 408x614px

“Not at all.” You reply, after a long moment of hesitation. You weren’t sure of whether or not to accept his offer, but in the end decided it couldn’t hurt. Best to be clear, in any event. “Though I can’t promise we’ll be best of friends after your lesson.”
A wry chuckle comes out of the fish-head.

“I wouldn’t expect it. Friendship comes with time. But wait! Where are my manners?” he bends and, with a sweeping bow, introduces himself. “I am Nereus, the fishman of Oldrock Cove.”
With a raised brow, you give him your pseudonym and a firm handshake. You half expect him to raise your hand to his lips for a kiss, but to your relief, he merely returns the shake.

“Now, my dear, observe the most powerful members of Lord Oberon’s Court.” He turns slowly, discretely pointing out each person as he describes them. “See that fellow in the red cloak, with the curly horns and yellow eyes? That’s Kyre. He speaks for most of the higher demons, though there more splinter groups than you can count in that lot. He’s pragmatic before anything else, though some say he’s got a mean streak towards humans after a few bad deals with warlocks.

“The hairy woman, yes, the one built like an oak next to the pillar, that’s Irewa. She and her consort lead most of the beastmen and part-humans, including yours truly, but us fishmen keep to ourselves for the most part. I don’t see Orcue around, but he’s a big spindly looking man, very pale. He’s the one who’s managed to gain Oberon’s favor for the moment, but the humans don’t seem to have much of a permanent leader. It’s a lot of scrabbling for power among your kin, I’m afraid.

“Finally, the big blob of purplish jelly on the far end is...well, none of us really know its name, to be honest. It seems to be in charge of the assorted non-humanoid entities that find their way into the court, but they’re hardly a powerful group so it doesn’t matter much. Makes itself heard well enough when it matters, anyway.” Nereus claps his gloved hands together, sounding pleased with himself. “I think that’s nearly everyone of any importance.”

“That’s...certainly a lot to remember.” You murmur, trying to keep the names and positions straight in your head. You’re not sure any of this will be useful later, but who knows? Best not to forget anything until you’ve got the lay of the land.

“Not to worry, Sabrina dearie, I’m sure you’ll know it all before long.” The fishman peers over your shoulder and clicks his tongue. “It looks like Oberon is getting impatient, but I think we still have a moment before he summons you. Is there anything else I could help you with?”

>Yes, I’d like to know about someone… (specify who)
>Yes, what work do you do for the court?
>No, I think that’s all. Thank you.
>other

>>1006536
Ask him if he knows what we are and what he thinks of our kind.
Also what group would be the most welcoming.
Finally ask for a way to contact eachother and bid adieu

>>1006569
Writing.

“Yes, actually, a few things...” You start, trying to formulate the dozens of questions flying around your head, to order them and ask the most pressing ones first. “Do you know what I am? What do you think of my kind?”
Nereus tilts his head to the side, curious.

“I’ve heard talk in the parlor room suggesting you were a warlock, if that’s what you mean. Some of the demons, especially Kyre’s underlings over there, aren’t too fond of your sort. I don’t have any especial dislike for warlocks; why should I? Unless you meant something else?”
You wave him off. That was foolish of you—why risk letting out your secret? You’d been told the Unseelie was less uptight when it came to necromancy, but you have just met this fishman, and it can’t hurt to have a secret in reserve.

“Any idea what group would give the warmest welcome?”
Again, he gives you a strange look.

“Orcue leads the humans. You are a human, aren’t you? It follows you’d therefore be best received by that group. You ask the strangest questions, my dear Sabrina.”
You blush a little, and ask your last question.

“If we are to be friends, surely it would help to have a way to contact each other?”
At this, his voice seems to be nothing but happiness, though as always his face remains immobile.

“Of course, of course! I possess none of the communication devices so common among the humans, but if you ever seek my company or my counsel, you will certainly find me here at the Court. I hope to see you shortly, my dear!”
With another overly elaborate bow, he bids you farewell. “Alium”, really Oberon taking the disguise of a servant, pops up and guides you towards the front of the hall where the fake Oberon sits on a massive throne.

“Before I ask your decision, I think it prudent to inform you of something.” His voice rumble-hisses, that strange combined quality of baritone and whispering speech. “We heard tell that those charged with enforcing the laws of Portland discovered the scene at Arachnis Books.”
Your heart skips a beat. Your blood, fingerprints, fibers, are all over that shop! And the other book-keeper who directed you there might talk to the police, to say nothing of security cameras—your worries are cut short as the false Oberon speaks again.

“The Court has suggested they not investigate further, and they have agreed.” Seeing your confused face, the fae elaborates. “We have no small amount of control over human institutions. Consider this an act of good will, to show you what the Unseelie may do for you in future.”
Your head reels. You’d assumed the only power the Courts had was in the magical community, but this? This is scary. The careful mental boundaries you’d constructed between magical and mundane parts of the world begin to erode.
(cont.)

>>1006720

“So, tell me, Sabrina...” You know what the false-Oberon will ask even before the words leave his mouth. “Will you join the Unseelie? Or will you spurn our gifts, and the possibilities we offer you, for Lady Titania’s Court?”

>Join the Unseelie
>Join the Seelie
>Ask for more time

Due to the nature of this decision, I’ll be waiting for minimum 3 responses. If none are forthcoming tonight, I’ll run again tomorrow night at the same time.

>>1006730
>Join the Unseelie

>>1006720
>You ask the strangest questions
The question seems silly if he doesn't know the weight behind it

>Join the Unseelie
Sorry daddy Argus

>>1006795
Huh, didnt even finish reading fully before I cast my vote, these guys already did us a solid, plus they have another Necromancer to chat with. They really do seem like the good option, so long as we dont have to kidnap TOO many children to sacrifice for them I am okay with this.

>>1006810
You are right, we haven't asked what our duties would be

Maybe that'd be more prudent

If the Seelie have tasked a mage with blowing up a whole library, who knows what the Unseelie may ask of us

>>1006818
Maybe they didnt blow it up, maybe Argus just tossed a Cigar away trying to intimidate and be badass and it hit a gas leak.

I would laugh if half of the magical devastation in the world was just mages and magical beings with poor understandings of building safety codes.

>>1006839
Nah, it was pretty clear the fire was magical in nature, and then Argus was very eager to leave once we asked about the incident

I think I'll call it for the night.
See you all again tomorrow night, at 7:30pm EST or a little bit later. Make sure to join up and decide Liz's fate!

>>1006730
>>Join the Unseelie

>>1006999
aw shiiiiiiit

Running in about 45 minutes.

>>1007001
>>1006795
>>1006802
“Y-yes.” It takes you a moment, but once the words leave your mouth you feel strangely relaxed. The die is cast. There’s no use worrying about it anymore. You can’t take it back, can’t un-say the words, so there’s nothing left to do but deal with the consequences of your decision. On the plus side, both the real and fake Oberon seem pleased with it.

“The Unseelie Court thanks you for joining us.” The fake Oberon rumble-whispers. “I cannot express how glad I am to have you amongst our number. You have made the right choice. You will soon reap the benefits of your wisdom.”
You can’t help but shiver with apprehension. You’d never gotten a straight answer about what exactly you’ll be doing to earn those benefits. Then again, it couldn’t be anything too bad, right? And if it’s in exchange for the facilities to learn about your magic…

“Now, kneel and swear fealty to your Lord Oberon.” the man sitting on the throne orders, looking down at you with those piercing icy blue eyes. You freeze. You’d been planning to play along with their little trick a little longer, to act as though you had no idea that the ‘assistant’ to your side was the real Oberon. But maybe this was the real test? To see if you could be fooled into swearing your loyalty to a false Lord? But it might be worthwhile to conceal what you know a little longer, to wait for a more opportune moment.
What do you do?

>Kneel and swear fealty to the false-Oberon sitting on the throne
>Kneel and swear fealty to the real Oberon standing beside you
>Refuse to swear fealty
>other

>>1008988
>Kneel and swear fealty to the real Oberon standing beside you
We are liars, but we are not fools, and I will not stand to be thought of as such.

>>1009004
Writing.

You turn to face the man who introduced himself as “Alium”, claiming to be Lord Oberon’s assistant. He fits the archetype of the overworked clerk so much as to be almost a stereotype. He looks at you, quirking his head to the side as if confused. For a moment of heart-thudding terror, you fear you’ve done wrong, that you misunderstood the signs you saw.

No. You remind yourself of all the little clues, things that you know weren’t right. You’re certain about this. So, adrenaline pouring through your veins and threatening to make you empty your stomach, you drop to one knee in front of the man you’re sure is the real Lord Oberon.

And he starts laughing.
It’s not a chuckle or a giggle, but the sort of lighthearted laughter normally only heard from very young children. He claps, appearing delighted, and beams down at you. In your peripheral vision, you can see the fake Oberon sag in his throne, then slowly pull himself out of the chair and walk down off the dais.

“Well done, my child!” Oberon pulls you to your feet, acting as though you weighed no more than a ragdoll, and shakes your hand enthusiastically. “I was so afraid you’d be one of the boring, solemn ones from the way Titania spoke of you! I’m so happy to be wrong!”

He gestures to someone outside of your view and a small greenish woman with pointed ears and a woolen dress rushes over carrying a silver platter and two goblets. They seem to be made entirely of glass, with the exception of a small white ring around the rim. You can’t be sure, but it looks suspiciously like bone.

The goblets are filled with what you assume is wine, and Oberon sweeps up his own cup, shoving the other into your hands before dismissing the woman. He holds his glass up and taps it against yours, then takes a deep gulp of the liquid, sighing contentedly. Seeing you hesitate, he laughs again.

“Oh Sabrina, go on! Take a sip, to celebrate joining us! The Court may seem rather serious now, but the reveling begins soon enough! Join in and have some fun!”

>Take a drink, join the party. You worked hard, you deserve a break!
>Refuse the drink. Best to keep your wits about you in a place like this.
>Drink a little, but refuse to join the carousing. No sense in being rude, but you don't want to see parties in this place.

>>1009133
>Refuse the drink. Best to keep your wits about you in a place like this.
"Thank you, my Lord, but I reserve my wine for my craft."

>>1009156
>>1009133
>Refuse the drink

>>1009133
hello friend, can i ask what this is based upon? or is this OC- looks very fun, i will be browsing until i get the hang of it-----

>Drink a little, but refuse to join the carousing. No sense in being rude, but you don't want to see parties in this place

dont be rude to our new liege lord IMO- specify that you are doing it for that reason only.

>>1009156
>>1009176
Writing for refusing the drink
>>1009180
It's original, yes. Lightly inspired by the book "Hold Me Closer, Necromancer" I read a good while back, but no real similarities between the settings. Enjoy catching up through the archives!

>>1009180
You're absolutely welcome to come visit our Discord server, where we can quickly catch you up on the story.

We were also told twitce before by a friend to not eat or drink anything offered by the fae.

>>1009199
oh, it kind of reminded me of kingdoms of amalur(lore-wise ETC)
thanks m8
--
>>1009200
hm...maybe its another test though, then again we didnt see the little one pour the liquid so...yea lets not drink it on second thought.

>>1009176
>>1009156
agreed^- dont drink.

>Refuse

>>1009220
You should also avoid reading the archive of the discord. For you own well-being and sanity

>>1009220
I'm not familiar with Kingdoms of Amalur, I'm afraid. Seems interesting though. I hope you enjoy the quest!

>>1009199
You smile, not wanting to seem rude, and raise the glass to match Oberon’s toast, then lower it again, without bringing it to your lips. He seems puzzled and a little put-out, but you give him your best apologetic smile.

“Thank you, my Lord, but I reserve my wine for my craft. The fae’s refreshments might not agree with my constitution, after all.” You’re no fool, and you remember Argus’ warnings clearly. At least according to him, Rip Van Winkle was a cautionary tale. Take a drink from one of the fae and you might wake up a hundred years later, or not at all.
Oberon pouts, but doesn’t press the issue. He takes your cup graciously and downs the contents in a single gulp. Throwing his arms in the air, an empty goblet in each fist, he addresses his Court.

“My subjects, let us celebrate!”
In just a moment, the mood of the court changes entirely. The figures sitting sedately around braziers or lazing on benches around the edges of the court begin to stir, and the sound of laughter comes from all sides. Some produce flasks and flagons, others grab partners and begin to dance in the center of the court. It’s a strange dance, beginning with a single pair of horned, dark-skinned women twirling around each other in the middle. Several of the beastmen that Nereus pointed out earlier form a circle, spinning around them. Circle after circle forms around them, each one twisting in the opposite direction as the last. Before long the dance fills the hall, and strains of song begin to drift from the center. The tune is achingly familiar, but each note is different than the last, and impossible to predict.

You’re standing outside the outermost circle, straining to hear each note of the song but not daring to get any closer. The members of the Court seem to have taken Oberon’s order to heart, but you get the sense that the revelry has only just begun. You start to head for the door—after all, you’re sure you’ve got something else to do today. That said, it couldn’t hurt to stay for just an hour or two? As long as you don’t eat or drink anything, of course. Though, surely just one bite couldn’t hurt?

>Stay, enjoy the celebrations.
>Leave, get back home before you’re missed.
>Write-in

>>1009315
>Go home and keep studying LPhFs
Liz is a nerd, after all

>>1009328
>>1009315
Supporting this

Lets go do some gott damn magic!

>>1009340
Besides, i have the feeling that if we join the festivities we are going to be missing for a while.

I don't know how much the passage of time differs from the real world.
We already know the spatial relationship is shot to hell

>>1009291
how else do you expect him to get notifications on when the quest is running tho
>>1009315
>Leave, get back home before you’re missed.

>>1009315
>Stay, enjoy the--
>Wait
>What the hell are we doing
>We still have a damn concussion
>Ask Oberon for something to remedy this

>>1009328
>>1009340
>>1009346
Going home to study Lesser Physical Forms is locked in, but...
>>1009349
Roll for finding Oberon amongst the chaos. 1d20, best of three, crits take precedence.

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>1009379

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>1009379

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>1009346
Being in the Discord group: Good
Finding out what we talk about normally: Not as good

>>1009379

>>1009413
Writing for going home after searching for Oberon.

>>1009424
You shake your head furiously, hair whipping around your face. That helps to clear it somewhat, and a realization comes to your mind. You’re still concussed, with a broken hand and a chunk missing out of your shoulder where that bizarre pseudo-physical form tried to take a bit of it yesterday. Seeing as Oberon sounded like he wanted to take care of that mess himself, maybe you could convince him to help heal you!

So you set off, pushing through dancers and drinkers, wading clouds of sweet-smelling smoke. Several times you’re offered food, drink, and what you suspect are drugs, but each time you decline with an increasing effort of will. After accidentally stumbling upon two jelly-like creatures absorbing a live goat in one of the sunken pits to the side of the hall, you take a sharp turn and find yourself opposite the great Lord Oberon himself. He’s standing beneath one of the torches, sipping golden liquid from a shallow bowl and watching the writhing mass of humanoids dancing just a few feet away.

“L-lord Oberon!” you stammer out, not sure what the proper form of address is now that you’ve officially joined the Unseelie. He turns to face you, and while the bright light from above obscures part of his face, his expression seems to be one of mixed amusement and contemplation.

“Yes, Sabrina, my new raiser-of-the-dead?” he replies easily, another sip of the liquid staining his teeth a metallic yellow.

“Before I leave, is there anything you can do about my injuries?” You realize you’re almost shouting to be heard, though the dance is eerily quiet. You adjust your volume, a little embarrassed. “I would appreciate it greatly.”

“Mm, go see Pious. Room to the left of the throne, nearest the door.” His expression turns almost sly “But I will expect you to pay for it, in time. A reasonable price, but a price all the same.”
That’s not surprising, but it is annoying. You’d expected to be working for him, but being in his debt leaves a bad flavor in your mouth. It might still be preferable to waiting a couple months for your hand to heal, and hoping the glamour holds out, though.

>Agree to pay him back at a later date.
>Pass on the offer, head home now.
>Ask if he won't offer it as a gift, since you're new.

>>1009505
>agree to pay him back at a later date.

>>1009545
Writing.

“Okay, fine.” You’re sure you’ll regret this at some point in the future, but for now the pounding in your head and the throbbing pain in your wrist is enough to convince you. After all, if you’ll be doing work for Oberon anyway, an extra job or two to pay off your debt first is no biggie. Oberon smiles and raises his bowl, takes another sip of the liquid, and turns back to the dancers. You guess that means you’re dismissed.

You snake your way through the crowd towards the front of the hall, and after a few wrong turns, manage to find the door Oberon mentioned. Stepping through, you enter what seems to be a normal doctor’s examination room. Tiled floor, florescent lighting, and a padded examination table in the center, with a halogen light hanging on an adjustable arm above it. In the corner there’s a desk with a man wearing surgical scrubs bent over it, his back to you. There’s something off about his appearance, but until he turns around at the sound of the door opening, you don’t realize.

He’s dark-skinned, and looks Indian, or maybe Thai. His smooth black hair is cropped short, with a surgical mask concealing his mouth. He also has an extra set of arms set below the first pair and a number of tiny black eyes poking out of his forehead, swiveling in every direction. You manage not to stare, but it’s a near thing.

“Hello! It looks like you could use some patching up! Just hop up on the examination table there and I’ll get to you in a moment!” he says cheerfully, the sound muffled by the surgical mask. You’re curious, but get the sense you’d really prefer not to know what’s underneath. After a moment, he steps over and looks over you critically, seeming to not even notice the glamour. You make a note to tease Argus about that one.

“So, puncture wounds to the right shoulder, dislocation of the right wrist and a few broken metacarpals. Easily fixed...though it will hurt quite a bit and you’ll need to stay still or it won’t work. Do you think you can handle it? If not, I can give you a salve to apply. It’ll take a few days, but it shouldn’t hurt much.”

>I can take the pain. Fix me up now.
>I’d prefer the salve, thanks.
>Ehh, on second though, I’ll be leaving.
>Write-in

>>1009659
>I can take the pain. Fix me up now.

>>1009659
>I can take the pain. Fix me up now
This way we can draw circles and dig up corpses as soon as we get home!

The doctor is going to hold us down and stab us with a healing shiv isn't he?

>>1009684
>>1009672
Roll 1d20 to deal with the pain. Best of 3, crits take precedence.

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>1009718
No WHAMMY

>>1009729
Writing.
Penultimate post of the night. One more after this and I'm headed to bed.

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>1009718

“I can take the pain.” You answer confidently. You’ve always had a high pain tolerance, and it’s something you’re proud of. You’re sure you can deal with whatever this weird-looking doctor has in mind. He looks you over again and shrugs.

“If you’re sure you won’t move too much.”
He goes behind the desk and pulls out a small wooden box. He places it on the examination table and opens it. Inside are six large black beetles, sitting immobile in orderly lines. Pious glances to you, then down at the box, and murmurs something to himself before grabbing two beetles from the box. To your surprise, they begin moving as soon as he touches them, long legs scrabbling for purchase. He places one on your left shoulder and the other on your right hand. As soon as he releases them, the two beetles freeze once more.

“Okay, they’re going to bite you in three...two...one.” Pious says matter-of-factly. You start to ask what he means, but as he finishes his countdown the most intense pain you have ever felt flares into your mind.

Once, you fell into a campfire as a kid. Luckily, your parents were right there, and all you suffered was a bit of a burned back and an impromptu haircut, but the pain and the shock of it stayed with you. The feeling of heat greater than anything you’d experienced before, the total helplessness, is the same now as it was then. You feel waves of agony rolling over you, surging from where the two beetles sank their mouthparts into you. Still, you remain in control. You refuse to scream, to tear at the insects, to move a muscle at all. You just sit there, breath rattling in and out, every thought scrubbed from your mind except one. [I] When will it stop? [/i]

Finally, after what feels like hours, Pious reaches over and plucks the bugs from your skin. You almost collapse on the table, but force yourself to stand, to check your injuries...except they’re not injuries any more. Where the wrist brace once held a broken bone straight, now there’s nothing but a bug bite, itchy but not painful. The same is true on your opposite shoulder, any sign of injury erased by the bizarre beetles. Your head feels clearer as well, their magical properties apparently having been enough to cure your concussion.

You thank Pious shakily, and he replies that you’re welcome any time you need healing, all in the same friendly tone of voice. Leaving the office, you find that the party is still in full swing, maybe even moreso than when you left it.
Do you leave the Court now, or look for someone else amidst the chaos?
>Leave now
>Look for someone else (specify)
>other

>>1009891
>Leave now

We got reading to do!

>>1009891
>Leave now

>>1009921
>>1009970
Writing.

Last post of the night. Sleep well gents, and see you tomorrow at the same time, 7:30pm EST

Time to get out of this crazy place. Though you’re sure Pious’ bugs cured your concussion, between the pain of their ‘cure’ and the noise and smoke of the celebrations, your head is spinning worse than ever. You stumble through huddled crowds of inhuman monsters, past pillars that seem to sway and sag in time with that haunting song still twisting its way through the hall, and finally reach the doors at the far end. You throw them open and stumble outward, only just realizing that the usually-silent Cat is no longer with you. He must have been unsummoned at some point, though you can’t imagine why or by whom.

With a resigned sigh, you take a step forward, basking in the late morning sunlight. It’s a relief to see that not too much time has passed...assuming it’s the same day at least. A quick check of your phone reveals that no, you haven’t lost a full day, and in fact it’s been barely an hour. You glance up and notice, with relief that the chauffeur is parked just across the street. You cross and climb in, relaxing against the plush leather seats, secure in the knowledge that nothing has ever felt better. The watery-eyed man in the driver’s seat says nothing, just pulling away from the curb and returning to your home.

By some miracle, nobody seems to have noticed the car, so you sneak in your window, thanking various deities that you didn’t lock it last night. Judging by the lack of shouting and the fact that nobody’s called your cell, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s noticed your absence either. You sit on your bed for a moment, then get up and dig the grimoire out of its hiding place, flipping it to the page on Lesser Physical Forms.

It’s time to get some work done.

>>1010032
thanks for running boss

>>1010032
Thanks for running, Skelly!

Running in about an hour and ten!

You hesitate, then grin. You fought a zombie with a doorknob and banished a ghost to be get your hands on Ulysses’ grimoire, and you still haven’t opened it yet? What kind of researcher are you?! Tossing Sikes’ grimoire to the side, you pull Ulysses’ grimoire out from under your bed and crack it open. It creaks, its spine complaining at having to stretch open after so long sitting shut, but nothing tears or crumbles into dust, so you don’t pay it any mind.

Its table of contents sits open before you.

Ch 1. The Nature of Warding
Ch 2. The Practice of Warding
Ch 3. The Extension of Warding
Ch 4. Sorcerer’s Wards
Ch 5. Witch’s Wards
Ch 6. Warlock’s Wards

Well, best to start with the beginning, you suppose. So you flip to the first chapter and start to read. The language isn’t nearly as archaic as Sikes’ grimoire, you’re happy to see.

[I] All magic is energy, and wards are no exception to this. Sorcerers weave spells and use their body’s energy to take advantage of the shortcuts present in the universe. Enchanters overwhelm their opponent’s internal flow of energy, leaving them susceptible to suggestion. Seers stretch their own energies outward, allowing them to sense things others cannot. Warlocks use their energy to reach through dimensions, and Witches unlock the variable energies present in the natural world to create charms and potions.

By creating a ward you are, in effect, creating a barrier to others’ energies. So long as your ward stands, any attempts to cross it will be dispelled by the disparate nature of your energy and your opponent’s. The basic principal of warding is to create as strong a barrier as possible, as each time magic is dispelled by a ward, an amount of energy equal to the magic’s strength is lost from the ward. Thus, even an overwhelmingly powerful ward may be chipped away by constant low-level attacks, and wards formed by multiple weaker magic users may stand up to the strongest attacks. [/i]

That’s interesting. You wonder if the energy they’re talking about is related purely to physical power, or if there’s some separate reservoir of magical energy in the body unrelated to what kind of shape you’re in. The classic trope of the wizened old man with incredible magical power makes you suspect the latter, but who knows how much you can trust movies when it comes to these things?

Now, do you keep reading this chapter, or flip past it and read another?

>Read another chapter (specify which)
>Continue reading this chapter
>Put down the book and do something else (specify)

>>1012272
>Continue reading this chapter

no-one likes a skimmer!

sorcerer's wards seems like the priority after that

>>1012272
>Continue reading this chapter
hi skelly

>>1012310
>>1012315
Writing.
[/spoiler] Hi cloud [/spoiler]

You decide to keep reading this chapter. Might as well get as much as you can out of it in one go.

In principal, this isn’t always the case. It takes concentration to mix your own wards with another’s, and if not done properly this can simply lead to the two canceling each other out, rather than compounding their strengths.

There is also some anecdotal evidence that different types of magic users generally have different types of energy, making it easier for two enchanters to create a single ward when compared to an enchanter and a warlock attempting the same feat. By the same token, however, similar energies are more likely to slip through one another. As a result, magic users may find their wards less effective against their own kind. It must be admitted that this author can find no hard proof of these assertions, merely drawing the statements from experience and interviews.

Wards are believed to be quite an old form of magic, having been created almost out of necessity after other forms expressed themselves. Their touches can be felt throughout history, from the simple signs and symbols used to protect from “the evil eye” to the modern ideas of aura cleansing that have taken hold amongst certain subcultures.

The more complicated sorcerer’s wards left on ancient tombs and burial grounds are also famous in the non-magical world, though often derided as curses by skeptics. In fact, such wards exist, and are relatively common in the resting places of nobles of both ancient Greece and Egypt. They are well studied by magical historians, and the greatest unanswered question is how they survived so long untended.

At this point, the book dives into what it calls “magical theory and history” discussing the likely origins of warding as a psychological phenomenon that blossomed into a genuine physical manifestation. It gets a little heavy for your liking, especially as you can’t see anything particularly useful or interesting in it. You enjoy reading, sure, but if you’re going through what’s essentially a textbook, you tend to aim for the useful parts and ignore the rest.
What now?

>Try to refocus on the Nature of Warding chapter
>read another chapter (specify which)
>put down the book for now

>>1012431
>read another chapter (specify which)
The Practice of Warding

>>1012431
>read another chapter (2, then 4)

>>1012452
>>1012462
Writing.

>>1012431
>>1012462
>read another chapter(2, then 4)
This, but not sure if a Sorceror's wards work for us, we can try but if each needs a different form of warding then Necromancers might need their own specific forms.

Or we might be shit out of luck when it comes to wards in the traditional sense and have to rely on our shades and summons to protect us.

>>1012528
>A ward made of Shades and bone
Yes

>>1012528
Gee, I dunno, if, knowing that we were a necromancer, why would Argus suggest us to pick up a book about magic?

>>1012552
We got the recomendation in an anonymous chatroom

Argus doesn't know we are a necromancer, but he might have his suspicions

You decide to read through the next chapter about the practice of warding. On the first page is a large illustration, supposedly showing the flow of energy through the body and out into the world. You’re getting a very new-age vibe from the book so far, but if it lets you make some sort of magical defense, it’ll be worth it.

This chapter seems to be more practical than the last, starting with a warning about the limitations of wards.

Most magic users will find that their wards are useful only against magical attacks. This is by no means a ‘killing blow’ to their use, as magic users are far more likely to deal with magical attacks than physical ones, but should be kept in mind when dealing with the art of warding. Of course, many sorcerers and some talented warlocks may find themselves able to shift the ‘wavelength’ of their energy, so to speak, in such a way that it becomes resistant to physical attack. That said, such techniques are difficult to learn, hard to master, and need a tremendous amount of energy and focus to maintain.

The natural caveat for warding is that it is generally only useful if your ward is stronger than your opponent’s attack. If it is not, only a portion of the attack will be mitigated by the ward, after which it will dissipate and the attack will find its mark. However, the opposite is also true—your attacks must be able to overwhelm your opponent’s ward(s) to be worthwhile. As a result, many magic users find themselves faced with the classic dilemma of allocating limited resources in two necessary areas. Spend too much of your energy in creating your ward(s) and you leave yourself unable to retaliate against your opponent, but spend too little and risk leaving yourself vulnerable

You think for a moment. Being a necromancer, does that last bit even apply to you? You didn’t feel any sort of “drain” of energy from giving offerings to Cat, or even summoning him in the first place. A grin starts to spread across your face. Assuming you have any magical energy at all, you can safely sink all of it into defense, giving you a huge advantage over people who have to split it up!

Already looking forward to trying it out, you read ahead.
Cont shortly

>>1012590
whoops alrighty then

>>1012635
Seeing a heading about actually creating a ward, you focus on that. There’s a load of stuff about meditation and centering yourself, lighting incense and that sort of thing. You skim through it briefly, finding most of it overlaps with what you’d expect from a yoga class down at the local community center.
Fortunately, it quickly gets down to business. For beginners, it strongly recommends a physical motion to help focus your energy and “enhance your belief”, whatever that means. The physical motion it suggests is something like fingerpainting, while visualizing something slowly coming out of your finger as you create the ward.

You wrinkle your nose a little, bothered by how wishy-washy all of it is. With Sikes at least it was straightfoward—you draw a circle, light some candles, spill some blood and you get results. This is annoyingly uncertain, and reads like a guided meditation audiotape.

For Beginners:
Practice the breathing exercises previously described while in a relaxed state. Imagine yourself being surrounded by a warm, comforting glow of your own energy. As you feel yourself becoming more in-tune with your own energy and how it flows, slowly stand up. Maintain your breathing pattern, and don’t lose your relaxed state. Feel your energy move, and visualize a portion of it moving from your stomach up through your chest and down your arm, pooling there at the tip. Carefully ‘draw’ your ward in the air around you, focusing on whatever it is your want to protect against. The more specific your target, the more effective your ward, as the more tightly it is tuned to protect against that thing only. Once you have finished ‘drawing’ your ward, have a partner or seer confirm that you have succeeded, and wait for it to dissipate. After this point, it should become gradually easier to create a ward when you need it.

Hmm, that seems simple enough, though it still bugs you that there’s no simple, clear way to go through it. You wonder if you should try it out now, or wait for later. The book is interesting, sure, and it’s certainly worth the read, but trying out new magic…? That might take precedence.

>Keep reading the book (specify chapter)
>Put down the book, try to create your first ward
>put down the book, do something else

>>1012742
>>Put down the book, try to create your first ward

Lets get dis ward going!

Also where the hell did everyone go!

>>1012635
>Most magic users will find that their wards are useful only against magical attacks

That's it, better start buying some AR-15s and maybe a full cartridge rifle for bigger non-human things.

>>1012742
>>>Put down the book, try to create your first ward
Time for something practical

>>1012864
Don't say that Skelebro might hear ya

>>1012843
>>1012867
Roll 1d20 to determine success. Best of three, crits take precedence.
>>1012864
/k/ says Maine has excellent gun laws

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>1012886

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>1012886

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>1012886
Coemon 14!
>>1012886
Yeah, I remember going through the whole concealed carry thing for Maine. Pretty sure it is a Concealed Carry state that is relatively easy for a waifish teenage girl to get a permit in. Just gotta save up, get Lizzie a Saturday night special!

>>1012916
>>1012886
Effective October 15, 2015, Public Law 2015, Chapter 327 (LD 652), “An Act To Authorize the Carrying of Concealed Handguns without a Permit,” allows a person who is not otherwise prohibited from possessing a firearm to carry a concealed handgun in the State of Maine without a permit. This law also authorizes a person to possess a loaded pistol or revolver while in a motor vehicle, trailer or other vehicle being hauled by a motor vehicle.

So yeah, no permit necessary!

>>1012889
>>1012894
Writing.

>>1012922
>Kill person in self defense
>Raise the body
No need for the police to investigate

>>1012916
>>1012922
A handgun isn't going to do much against anything supernatural; they already routinely fail to stop normal humans and magnum rounds are only a tiny step above automatics, not even worth the trade off of magazine size and recoil.

>>1012950
Better than nothing, also it is to support our physical forms in battle

>>1012959
Or just keep a rifle nearby and bring it out before enemies get here because of shade surveillance.

>>1012970
Yep, our shades being some of the stealthiest things around is a great benefit

>>1012950
>Routinely fail to stop normal humans
When will this meme die?

Get shot 5 times by a 45 and tell me how much you feel like jerking off and dancing a jig.

You hit someone a few times with some bullets, they die, it might take a few seconds but it kills people. The PCP Superman myth has kinda gotten out of hand, you should watch a few videos where people get shot that aren't from Hollywood.

Use a bloody revolver and get it over with if you want power, 454 casull will take down a moose.

>>1012970
>>1012996
So liz is the kinda girl that keeps a rifle in her truck and a 45 on her hip? Sounds good. Also, shot placement matters, you aren't going to walk off a bullet that pops your melon open and squirts your brain out like gogurt, at least not without some serious magic. Even then I bet it will put a hitch in their giddyup.

>>1012996
>it might take a few seconds

That is not acceptable.

You suck air through your teeth, then reach over to tug your blinds closed, making sure your door is locked as well. No sense letting anybody know what you’re up to, and this is more relaxing anyway. You plonk back down on the bed, sitting back against the wall, and try to relax. Breath in the nose, out the mouth. In the nose, out the mouth. Slowly but surely, you feel the stress leave your muscles. It takes time, but the fear, uncertainty and anxiety instilled in you by your experiences at the Unseelie Court fade away.

Now comes the hard part, “becoming more in-tune with your own energy.”
How do you even go about that? You feel your face start to wrinkle with annoyance, but force it to smooth back out, focusing on your breathing. It said something about the energy coming from your stomach, right? So you should start there.

You try to become as aware as possible of every bit of stimulus you’re feeling from your stomach. Every itch, bit of discomfort, grumble or sensation is carefully registered and pondered over. Is this my energy? Is that? You’re not having much luck, until you start to notice something different. Every time you take a breath, you feel a heat, swelling and dying back in time with your careful breaths. It feels like a fire being stoked by a set of bellows, steadily growing.

Okay, so that’s your energy, you guess. You move to your feet, making sure to maintain your unhurried rhythm in through your nose, and out through your mouth. In the nose, out the mouth. Standing now, you picture the warmth, the subtle fire that you imagine inside of your belly, spreading upwards. It moves almost as slowly as you do, crawling up your arm and trickling down to your finger.

Nearly there now, just a little further. You reach forward and start to sweep your finger back and forth, as though painting the air in front of you. You think as hard as you can, imagining Cat. After all, you don’t have a seer on-hand, so you might as well make it easy to test.

You carefully paint a rectangular area in front of you, then drop your arm, examining it critically. You really don’t see any difference at all. Maybe you’re at a disadvantage since you don’t usually use your ‘energy’? Or maybe it’s normal not to see your own wards at first? If they were really obvious, they’d probably be irritating after a while, wouldn’t they? Staring through a shimmering sheet of light isn’t easy on the eyes, after all.

So what now?

>summon Cat to test the ward
>think of some other way to test it
>go back to reading the book
>write-in

>>1013005
Friendly reminder that when the man at the gunstore asks why you need a .357 magnum revolver, you should not tell him about the imps that the fae sent to watch you or the ghost that beat you up.

>>1013038
>why you need a .357 magnum revolver
>need

SHALL

>>1013038
>summon Cat to test the ward
Cat should always be summoned, no matter what

>Spoiler
"I got mugged the other day, now i fear for my life"(tm)
Done

>>1013038
>Summon Cat to test the ward

All you gotta say is "Look at me, I am a frail little girl and I want to be able to protect myself against all the big meanies that might hurt me on a night out." It is super common for women to conceal carry in this day and age. So pretty much typical stuff, self defense, home defense, I think its cool, it makes me wet. Etc.

>>1013058
I mean, I live in a state that requires a FOID card to buy ammo and stuff. The most questions I ever get are "Can I see your FOID card?". Just checked it, Maine also does not have a agelimit on when you can buy pistol ammo or rifle ammo, some states make you wait till 21 for pistol ammo, so we are good to go. Just gotta pony up the cash.

Also, like I said, most wont even ask. A lot of gun store owners that aren't actually seedy pawn shops are 2nd amendment enthusiasts and seeing a waifish little thing come in asking for "The biggest loudenboomershootenhopper you have" will probably fill their hearts with joy.

>>1013052
>>1013058
Writing
>>1013050
To be honest I prefer the idea of Liz shouting /k/ memes as opposed to reacting reasonably, if only for comedic value
>>1013078

>the current year
>not shooting eargesplittenloudenboomer

Well, you created the ward with Cat in mind, so it’s probably best to test it out with his help. You grab his skull and reach for some libation…
Only to find that the bottle is empty. That's right, you'd used up the last of it at the bookshop, to bring Cat back to full strength after he banished the ghost. You sigh in disappointment and walk out of the room, peering out into the hall. It’s late morning, and while your father is off at work, your siblings and mother are still in the kitchen finishing up breakfast. Your mom might be a big shot at the newspaper, but she always works her own hours.

You had intended just to grab something for Cat and find the wine and herbs for the libation, but realize just how hungry you are. So you dig around in the freezer and pull out a few waffles, throwing them in the toaster and grabbing some lemonade to drink as you wait. Your brother waves to you and starts to say something about the ren-faire, spraying bits of pancakes everywhere. Your mother shushes him and gets up from the table to look you over, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“How are you feeling, sweetie? Your head doing any better? I hope we didn’t wake you.” You grin sheepishly, pulling your waffles out of the toaster to give yourself time to reply.

“No, no, it’s fine. I went to bed so early last night anyway.” You answer, neglecting how early you got up, since you don’t feel like trying to convince her of the existence of the Unseelie Court and its eternal feud with the Seelie Court. “I feel totally fine, really.”

“Well I’m glad you’re doing better, but you’re still not going to the faire with Andrew, Olivia and I. Stay home, rest up, and don’t unlock the doors, okay?” You give her a perplexed look, and she lowers her voice to explain. “It's not in the news yet, but they found a girl’s body just a few miles down the road. She was about your age, and it looked like a bunch of animals got to her, after the body was dumped. I don’t mean to scare you, but I worry sometimes. So stay safe, okay?”

>Yes, mom, I’ll stay in for the day
>Surely if there’s a predator around, I’d be safer going out with you three?
>write-in

>>1013138
>Yes, mom, I’ll stay in for the day
Time to go out for booze
Is 18 enough to buy booze there?

>>1013153
18 is legal age in Canada, Maine is still 21. Liz is pretty sure there's some wine in the house, though.

>>1013153
Writing the last post of the night now.

You nod sympathetically. She thinks you just got mugged the other day, and when a teenage girl’s body shows up, it’s natural to be scared. If she knew what you’d been through and what you’re capable of, you doubt she’d feel comforted. So you agree to stay home for the day, and wish her and Andrew a good time at the Ren-Faire. You don’t say anything to Olivia, remembering her lie just a few days ago. It doesn’t look like she’s exactly looking forward to it anyway.

Once they’re out of the house, you rummage through the pantry, grabbing everything you need for the libation and carrying it back into your room. Though they’re gone now, it would be awkward if Andrew had forgotten his water bottle and ran back inside, only to find his sister dripping her own blood into a bottle of wine.

You set everything up and carefully draw the knife across your forearm, making sure all the blood flows down into the bottle, since you’ve already added the herbs. It’s a real pain, and you’re sure that eventually somebody’s going to get the idea that you’re suicidal. You wonder if you could get a syringe, or one of those lancets diabetics use for blood tests. Something for another day.

Shaking up the libation, you pour some onto the skull, flick a bit of chicken wing from the fridge onto it, and set them both ablaze. They catch right away, and after a forgettable evocation and the usual lightshow, Cat spirals up into the room, stretching his back as though coming out of a long nap.

“Hey Cat, how goes it?” You ask, smiling. You hadn’t realized it, but in the short time he was away, you’d already begun to miss him.

“Well enough, my lady.” he replies, yawning and settling down. “What do you require?”

>Tell me what happened to you earlier, at the Unseelie Court
>Help me test my ward
>Something else (specify what)

Good night all, and to all a good night.

>>1013281
>Tell me what happened to you earlier, at the Unseelie Court
Then ask him what little he knows about wards if we haven't before, then ask him to test our atempt

>>1013281
>Tell me what happened to you earlier, at the Unseelie Court

Any interest in a session tonight at the usual time?

>>1026899
Whoops, forgot trip. Seriously tho, I have some time if anybody's up for it.

>>1026903
I can probably join the game tonight.

>>1026907
Doesn't look like I'll run tonight, but Tues-Wed-Thurs is the plan for this week, starting 7:30pm EST as usual

>>1012864
Why don't the bodies of magical creatures constantly get found riddled with bullets?
I'm fairly certain that there's probably retardedly easy ways of making magical creatures immune to solid projectiles that travel at speeds that enable them to cause harm.

Running tonight at 7:30pm EST in new thread. See you then!

Sorry, may be a little late, someone's visited unannounced.

Turns out I was not a little late! New thread's up!
>>1030144
>>1030144
>>1030144