Antimage Quest III

Suffer not the magi to live!

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Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>1200048

Here's some more information to help you folks out. I said I'd make maps at some point, so here's one of them!

Some notes:
Black paths = Official/planned
Gray paths = Unpaved/citizen-made (crime is typical in these areas)
Red dot = You

1 = Kongregatny (cathedral and administrative buildings, barracks; high-class and wealthy and their slaves)
2 = Sedlo (lived-in shops, family businesses; low-class employed)
3 = Teprodaja (failing businesses, guard-exclusive weaponsmiths; refugees, a few disgruntled middle-class)
4 = Akciza (once-famous marketplace; corrupt merchants, refugees, estranged non-humans)
5 = Izbeglan Bowels (residential district in a state of disrepair; low-class unemployed, criminals)
6 = Butcher's Block (home to city's once-successful meat industry, taverns; diverse population, mostly low or lower middle-class

--

When He picked you up a minute ago, you felt elated. You still feel a touch of that satisfaction, but you no longer feel the vigor granted by the Lord. Suddenly, the weightlessness of your spiritual journey fades and you return to the fallible world, feeling as though you had just been struck in the gut with a brick.

You nearly collapse. Your force of will keeps you moving, however, and through a few brief lapses in vision you stumble your way into the dark hallway, stamping across piles of herbs haphazardly thrown about by a fleeing clinician.

Before you know it, you're at the end of the hall questioning how you even got there in the first place. It hits you that you haven't had a restful sleep in days, nor have you drunk or eaten anything.

This is horrible. Why must divine power come at such a great cost?

Or is it not the divine power knocking the wind out of you, but rather the realization that you have been active almost nonstop since you embarked on your journey to this accursed city.

Enough groaning. Pyotr could be dead, and every moment spent crying about your condition is a moment not spent assisting him.

He may not appreciate the fact that you left him to fight the alchemist earlier.

[2/2]

>Give me a 1d100 roll for Pyotr's defense as I roll for the svinja's offense. Best of three.

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>1200134

Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>1200134

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>1200134

>>1200150
Pshhh pyotr is clearly nothing but defence

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>1200134

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>>1200142
>>1200147
>>1200150
>>1200156
>>1200167
>94
Stellar. Let's hope this is a sign of things to come.

--

94! Alive with minimal injuries.

Another flash of light received by your eyes, another few footsteps. You are weak and slow, and if you did not feel as though you just ingested an unhealthy amount of opiates you would be writhing in pain.

It takes a few minutes for you to realize that you tripped down a staircase when you come to on the damp floor of the clinic's lower sanctum. Your senses fail you -- only your legs know where they are going at this point.

You find yourself staring at a red figure in the middle of a massive chamber occupied with rows of occupied slabs. You are in the morgue, although given recent events it is nearly indistinguishable from the clinic's entrance.

The red figure looks back at you, then to its opponent on the opposite end of the room. It gasps and steps its way over to you, making sure not to trip over the corpses of red figures that came before it.

"You're alive... then." it says between labored breaths.

When it greets you with a nod, you greet it by buckling over onto the floor headfirst.

--
Temporary perspective change: Pyotr, Senior Guardsman

Life is full of surprises, isn't it. In a miraculous turn of events, the citizen who pledged to assist you in your battle against the abominations turned out to be the only survivor.

Every man under your employ is dead or dying. This citizen -- whom you have regarded as a well-intentioned lunatic ever since he first argued against surrendering his weapon at the city's gate -- has survived the same scenario that around a score of your men could not; a fact that would make you livid if you didn't have other engagements.

At the other end of the morgue stands the son-of-a-whore who killed your men. You have only one bolt for your crossbow, Veronica, a wooden bludgeon typically used to separate drunken tavern brawlers, a dull seax on your belt, and some rope.

The svinja has a bolt in his left eye, one sticking through his left testicle, and another in his stomach. The rest of your bolts have either missed their mark or only grazed it slightly.

The svinja is faltering now. What do you do?

>Use the last bolt. (where will you aim?)

>Do not risk aggravating it. Retreat upstairs with the unconscious citizen and wait for it to come after you. It's not exactly the smartest creature you've gone up against.

>Take the falx off of the citizen. If it works for farmers, it'll work for you.

And a 1d100 + 10 roll. The +10 comes from your (Pyotr's) previous successes in this battle.

You will resume control of the Antimage as soon as he's conscious.

Something to note:

Pyotr is significantly stronger than the Antimage and can carry much heavier items, but he is not nearly as agile. (mostly due to his armor)

>>1200230
>>Take the falx off of the citizen. If it works for farmers, it'll work for you.

>>1200230
Write-in is always an option, by the way. I forgot to mention that.

>>1200230
Shoot it right in the center of the chest

Rolled 27 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>1200230
Because we're awesome and too agile we shoot it in the other eye roll forward grabbing the falx slicing upwards at it.

Rolled 72 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>1200230
>>1200316

>>1200316
You're playing as Pyotr right now. He's not the agile one.

Rolled 6 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>1200310
forgot muh roll

>>1200316
>>1200321

Since Pyotr isn't as agile as the Antimage, he may have some difficulties. Thankfully, >>1200321's roll will make this easier on him.

Writing!

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>>1200277
>>1200310
>>1200316
>>1200321
>>1200325

82

Following your streak of success, you come up with a bit of an unorthodox plan. You cock the crossbow and nock your last bolt, soon thereafter aiming it for the svinja's center.

The svinja growls in response, but it's just a distraction. The snapping sound of the loosed bolt, along with the sound it makes as it travels for its body, proves far more satisfying.

The svinja is struck an inch above his pelvic region. It grabs hold of the bolt and attempts to rip it out -- in that time, you grab the falx off the ground and take off for the beast in a slapdash sprint, nearly slipping on a chunk of kidney on the floor in the process.

Once you reach its range of engagement, you drop into a painfully slow roll -- which would have led to more injuries on your part if the svinja weren't already occupied with its own problems, namely the bolt-related ones -- and return to your feet in a kneeling stance, slicing upward into its neck.

It starts to groan and squeal, so you give it a reason to continue. Standing at a safe distance, you cleave the falx into the creature's neck over and over until it decides it's had enough and clenches in the weapon's direction with its meaty, human-like hands.

It struggles for control, soon grabbing the falx by the end and tugging it away from you, although its movements are much less resolute than they were when this battle began. You can tell its will and strength are faltering!

1d100 +15s please, and include an action if you like.

Rolled 37 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>1200411
Die already

Rolled 93 + 15 (1d100 + 15)

>>1200411
Bash its head in with the club

Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>1200428
nice

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>>1200421
>>1200428
>>1200432

Nice rolls. Writing.

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>>1200421
>>1200428
>>1200432

108!!

Sticking the falx into the beast's neck, you produce your bludgeon with your non-dominant right hand and smack it over the head, eliciting a few more cries of pain and agony. Your bloodlust and sheer hatred for this creature consumes you, and a moment later you find yourself savagely shattering its skull and knocking bits of brain out of its mutilated head (which is, at this point, reminiscent of a melon ran over by a stagecoach) with each furious blow.

Your pain becomes irrelevant in that moment. For each loyal man that died at the hands of this uncaring brute, you give it another cruel bashing knowing that it would not hesitate to do the same to you.

It's over now. One down, one more to go... unless the other guards took that one out.

You stand and wipe the sweat off your brow, then leave the falx at the body of the unconscious citizen.

"You're welcome." you say before walking up the steps out of the morgue.

--

You are the Antimage.

You awaken. The walls around you are covered with torches. Life greets you with a moment of respite, as you soon notice that the svinja is dead and the red figure is gone.

Your senses return little by little as you hold your palm to your head and begin the arduous process of standing up with the wall's assistance. Once you are upright, you fully take in your surroundings.

Wait... surely I didn't do this, you think after humoring a brief bout of delirium.

Something about this room unnerves you. You feel like you're missing something.

>Check the corpses.

>Wander around the room and look for secret entrances or loot.

>Approach the svinja's corpse; observe it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aykTKEDuHzM

>>1200515
And of course, write-in and

>Leave the room and try to find Pyotr.

>Leave the room and try to find the alchemist who abandoned you.

>Leave the room; investigate the mage's corpse.

>Head back out to the streets and assess the situation. Perhaps the other svinja problem has taken care of itself.

are also options. Forgot to include the last ones.

>>1200515
Check to make sure we have our books
>Wander around the room and look for secret entrances or loot.

>>1200515
>>Check the corpses.
>>Wander around the room and look for secret entrances or loot.
>>Approach the svinja's corpse; observe it.
All 3

>>1200515
>Check the corpses.

>Wander around the room and look for secret entrances or loot

I'll be back in a moment, hang on for about ten minutes!

>>1200536
>>1200548
>>1200573
Writing.

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>>1200536
>>1200548
>>1200573

As disrespectful as it may be to loot a corpse, you think that one of the guards' bodies may have equipment worth taking. Unfortunately, none of them have the same protective gear as Pyotr -- it appears that the standard equipment for most, if not all, non-senior Javnazagrat guards is a simple blood-red cloak without any armor or special embellishments. What they lack in armor, they tend to make up for in sheer quantity and rigorous training, which brings you to a question --
Could this one catastrophe truly decimate the town's guard force? Where were the reinforcements?

>Do you loot the guards' corpses? Equipping a town guard's clothing as a non-permitted individual, regardless of the city, is typically punishable by a hefty fine. You only have 10 coppers which is equivalent to about $15 USD.

You then move on to the morgue's corpses, which have been neatly labeled by a skilled writer. As common as literacy is in Skrivenya Mestrikalja -- to the point where the average pettyman can read all three official bibles -- writing is very rare, as writing materials tend to be ridiculously expensive, and the process of creating iron gall ink is closely guarded information, most likely to prevent heretic ideologues from distributing their occult propaganda.

You have never written anything yourself, but you assume it's fairly simple. Just dip the pen into the ink and mimic what you've seen in the past, right?

A few labels stand out to you:

"Kysneta. 25 years. Female. Noble Clergy; Harbored Abomination. Executed."

"Bastal. 5 years. Hermaphrodite. Abomination. Executed."

"Etedore. 46 years. Male. Cultist. Suicide in prison."

"Milorad. 20 years. Male. Criminal. Killed in gang brawl."

This is an awful city. Criminals are meant to be handled by the Clergy, not clinicians. All of these corpses should belong to law-abiding civilians.

You then approach the svinja's corpse to find that its head has been obliterated. You also find a few bolts sticking out of its corpse, which you take. If you don't use them, they could at least be sold somewhere.

You take the four bolts and add them to your rucksack.

Roll me a 1d20 to find a secret!
Also, decide whether or not you want to loot the guards' corpses. You may find some good stuff; just be aware that you'll be committing a crime if you do so.

Pic unrelated; just wanted to show the updated hierarchy.

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>1200782
Loot a weapon, not the clothing

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>1200782
search their bodies for money and weapons. if money is found take half.

>>1200789

Here's how your roll will work:

>1: You find nothing.
>2-9: You find a hidden item.
>10-17: You find something else.
>18-20: You find a well-kept secret.

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>1200782
Secrets are always welcome.

Also, loot just a weapon, though we might have to ditch it if it's identifiable as a guard's.

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>1200802

>>1200794
>>1200782
Supporting

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>1200802

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>>1200789
>>1200794
>>1200803
>>1200811
>>1200822
>>1200831


As you scour the room for hidden secrets, you come across something particularly interesting...

The theme of this room is calculated organization -- as you noted even when you stumbled in here in a haze -- yet in the entirety of the room, a single mathematical mistake was made. While all the sconce are placed exactly opposite of one another, and always at the same distance as though they were placed by a savant with a knack for creating patterns. The organization is so perfect that even the most minute of changes would be recognized.

And that's why you notice that the west wall has not ten torch sconces like all the others, but eleven, and it's slightly lower! Once this one hiccup in an otherwise painstakingly-designed location is found, you begin to see them all over that area, until eventually you notice that the stones laid around the sconce are slightly off-pattern, and when compared to the nearby stones it seems to form the outline of a door.

You loot a few corpses before continuing through the door, but decide not to take any gear that is easily identifiable as guard gear. Although you feel a little guilty for it, you take some coin as well.

You have obtained:
54 coppers equivalent to roughly $81 USD
1 favor coin (a cultural item used by people in Odmazda Krater to exchange favors; it has no real value but natives to the Krater may recognize it)
Light crossbow (the others would be too much to carry)
Wooden bludgeon
Broken seax

Inventory updated: http://pastebin.com/PZpp62t6

You decide not to take anything else for two reasons:

One, it would be too much to carry.
Two, you slightly object to the idea of looting corpses to the nude.

You approach the wall and pull the sconce, yielding exactly the effect you expected: it slowly slides open, revealing a picturesque grotto with a large body of water in the center, flanked on all sides by ornate golden gargoyles.

Just the water sits a bespectacled man in long beige robes with a graying tonsure haircut. You place him to be at about his late forties or early fifties in age.

He clasps his hands together and draws his face in an overjoyed expression, the movement causing the enormous book in his lap to fall to the floor.

"I hoped this moment would come soon. What is your name, friend?" exclaims the clinician, who seems to be quite happy despite the circumstances that led you here.

>What do you say? (no need for a roll on this one)

>>1200913
Just past the water**

Woops.

>>1200913
Volkov. And you?

>>1200936
This I suppose

>>1200936

"Volkov," you reply uneasily, "and you?"

"Volkov? That's an interesting one. Never heard of it as a name before, only as a surname." the older man begins, speaking with a genuine tone that would put you at ease if it weren't so out of place in a ravaged clinic full of corpses from both doctors and patients.

"I'm doing fantastic, thank you." says the older man, wearing the same smile he had when you walked in.

"I meant your name."

"Ha! Of course, brother. My name is Teodor."

You stand in place awkwardly for a moment, holding your falx upright at your side and glaring idly at the man.

The clinician finally speaks. "I know what you're thinking. The world is collapsing outside, so why should I sit here and pretend it isn't?"

"Something like that." you respond, confused.

"But you have to understand that men like me cannot afford to worry. Worrying is inadvisable in my current state, it aggravates the humors. Especially an old man's humors."

"That is true," you concede, "but it does not explain why you're in here. Or why this place even exists."

"It's true, is it?" he laughs, completely ignoring your second point.

"I assumed it was. Is that not what the holy books say on medicine; that man has four humors that must be in constant balance?"

"A religious man, are you?"

"Don't ask that question. If I were to answer anything other than 'yes', you would not tolerate me."

"But I would. I am not awfully religious myself. Don't take people on their word, my friend." says the clinician with a unique gall. You'd expect a clinician to be insolent, sure, but rarely do they outright insult strong believers!

>"Nothing? No thanks for my efforts? A mage was coming to kill you and all of your clinician friends and I struck him."

>"I have the authority to shut you down. Apologize for insulting the Lord." (roll 1d100; gain bonus to duplicity for conversation's duration)

>"Ah, a fellow non-believer. I was starting to think I was the only one." (roll 1d100; gain bonus to duplicity for conversation's duration)

>Continue to debate religion with him. (roll 1d100 + 5 for presence)

>Keep an open mind; he never outright said that he was an atheist. Stay and insist that he explain why he's here.

>Something is going on here. Approach the man with your weapon drawn; apply some force if you must. (roll 1d100 + 5 to intimidate)

>Don't waste your time with this fool. There are still people that need to be assisted.
+>Go outside and assess the situation.
+>Find Pyotr.
+>Find the alchemist.
+>Go outside and look for a place to rest. You're famished and exhausted.

>Something else. (write-in)

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>1201072
>"I have the authority to shut you down. Apologize for insulting the Lord." (roll 1d100; gain bonus to duplicity for conversation's duration)

>"Nothing? No thanks for my efforts? A mage was coming to kill you and all of your clinician friends and I struck him."

>>1201072
struck him down**

>>1201072
>Keep an open mind; he never outright said that he was an atheist. Stay and insist that he explain why he's here.

>>1201072
>Keep an open mind; he never outright said that he was an atheist. Stay and insist that he explain why he's here.
Stay frosty though, I have a bad feeling about this.

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>1201072
what >>1201095 did

Need one vote on either side!

I'll roll a 1d2 if it doesn't come in five minutes.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>1201156

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>>1201095
>>1201108
>>1201119
>>1201141

As much as you want to hit the man for what he said to you, a brief period of consideration brings you to the conclusion that you can be a tad temperamental at times. So, to prove to yourself that you can be open-minded, you continue speaking with the man in a collected tone.

"So, you're not very religious. But you are religious." you insist, narrowing your eyes.

He just smiles and nods. It'll have to do.

"I appreciate the politeness. I'll have you know that I've been backhanded by guards for trivial matters before. You slicing my head off with that farming implement would not come as a surprise at this point." he says, pleased.

"Now that our brief excursion into theological matters has concluded," continues the clinician, "I will extend my gratitude. I truly am pleased to know that my people will be safe."

"That's all well and good," you comment, "but I would like to know why you're here."

"To enjoy the peace and quiet. I figure that if I die, I'd rather die with my nose buried in a book than at a guard's bolt. There are worse places to be buried, as I'm sure you know."

>"What is your concern with the guards? They saved your life just now, and your morgue is littered with them. The least you could have done is make your medical services available to them."

>"What do you know about mages?"

>"Do you know anything about the svinja?"

>"Do you know anything about this mask?" Show it to him.

>Pry a little; see what that book is about.

>"Bless you, brother." Leave and choose one of the following...
+>Find Pyotr.
+>Find the alchemist.
+>Go outside and assess the situation. Your job here isn't done yet.
+>Find a place to rest and relax.

>>1201268
>>"What is your concern with the guards? They saved your life just now, and your morgue is littered with them. The least you could have done is make your medical services available to them."
>>"What do you know about mages?"
>>"Do you know anything about the svinja?"
>>"Do you know anything about this mask?" Show it to him.
Don't see why not ask everything.

>>1201268
>"What is your concern with the guards? They saved your life just now, and your morgue is littered with them. The least you could have done is make your medical services available to them."

>>1201268
+>Go outside and assess the situation. Your job here isn't done yet.
Why are we still wasting time with this dude

>>1201281
Time is an issue, which is why I'd advise limiting your questions. It's up to you, though.

>>1201303
He may have some valuable information.

>>1201333
In that case I'm changing to only ask about svinja and mages.

>>1201268
>"Do you know anything about this mask?" Show it to him.

I'll wait for a consensus, a backing, or I'll just roll a 1d3 between >>1201281, >>1201303, and >>1201381 in five minutes.

>>1201414
I'll toss my vote in with >>1201303

And for heaven's sake don't show him the mask.

>>1201414
ouch

>>1201268
>Pry a little; see what that book is about.

>>1201436
Ha, woops.

>>1201303
>>1201434
We will leave and not show him the mask. He doesn't disappear from existence though, so we may encounter him later on.

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>>1201281
>>1201284
>>1201303
>>1201333
>>1201342
>>1201381
>>1201414
>>1201434
>>1201436
>>1201446
>>1201448

"I have a job to do. Perhaps we will see each other again someday soon." you say as you turn for the exit.

"If all goes well, I will be in the clinic... cleaning up. If the chaos continues, well, at least I'll have my books." replies the clinician, waving you off with a cheery expression.

Although his friendly demeanor was slightly unnerving and his comment about religion toed the line, you must admit that friendly faces are quite rare these days.

Once you make your way outside again, you see that the outside world is in an even worse state than you left it. The chaos has not subsided due to your kiling of the mage and "assistance" against the svinja; in fact, it has only increased in your absence.

To your immediate right, Pyotr sits with his crossbow in his lap and helmet at his side, scratching his scraggly brown hair in apparent frustration.

Farther down the right street, a gang of five or six pygmali engage in a bare-knuckle brawl with a woman holding a cleaver. The woman is heavily tattooed; the pygmali are both shaven from head to toe and shirtless. You also see a sandal lying in the mud. Perhaps it belongs to the alchemist who "helped" you earlier.

To your left, a dense crowd of men and women with sharp objects and torches march down the streets, presumably heading toward the city center to address their grievances.

"Do you hear that?" Pyotr asks, yanking on his hair as though he's ready to pull it out.

"The rioting?" you reply, unsure of what exactly he's referring too -- there's a lot of noise around you, after all.

"If you listen closely, you can hear the foundations crumbling. If you listen even closer, you can hear the Lord crying."

Although Pyotr's statement would sound like a joke coming from anyone else, you judge by the graveness of his voice that he is not taking this very well.

"I didn't give them permission to die yet. Those worthless fucks..." he says angrily, "...especially the kid. I told his father to take him back. Said he was too soft, would be better off learning how to haul hay first."

>"So, what now? What's the plan?"

>"You're pathetic. This city is crumbling because you're sitting there and moping."

>"Did you see an alchemist in a purple dress run off this way?"

>Offer to assist Pyotr in culling the riots.

>Offer to split up the gang fight.

>Offer Pyotr the favor coin you looted from one of the dead guards. (ask him to do something along with it if you like)

>Write-in.

>>1201601
>>"So, what now? What's the plan?"

>>1201601
>Offer Pyotr the favor coin you looted from one of the dead guards. (ask him to do something along with it if you like)
as him to take a very long slow walk around the block
>write in
kill those pygmali fucks

>>1201601
>>>"So, what now? What's the plan?"

>>1201601
>"So, what now? What's the plan?"

If his plan is "sit around and grouse about the cruelty of the world":
>Offer to assist Pyotr in culling the riots.
If we get up there and grandstand for all we're worth, we might be able to calm them. Or make it far worse.

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>>1201625
>>1201650
>>1201653

"So, what now? What's the plan?" you ask, although you should have known better than to be straightforward with someone in a volatile state.

"I don't know," he admits, rapping his fist on the ridge of his helmet anxiously as he answers, "I suppose we just cut our losses and go home at this point. I mean, you could at least."

"Surely you jest. Our job has just begun."

"No, I don't. There's something going on here. Riots, people tearing each other's hearts out, alchemy... no. This isn't a coincidence. This is a coordinated attack on every value we've worked tirelessly to preserve. This is the undoing of centuries," he begins beating on his helmet harder now, "centuries of work. I haven't seen another guard since I went out here, and I have a feeling I won't for awhile. I think it's safe to blame the cultists at this point. Or alchemists, or clinicians, or whatever it is people hate these days."

You allow him another tangent or two before adding your piece.

"I feel similarly" is all you say in response.

"Do you even care? Where's your family?" Pyotr queries with a tinge of frustration in his voice.

"I do care. More than you'd realize. That's why I'm trying to help you."

"You'd be the last one. I don't think the poor folk are happy that their shithole of a district is being wiped out by Lord-knows-what, and the guards can't even respond. It can't just be svinja."

"I'll help you with an immediate problem. Once that's taken care of, we'll have a clearer view of what's going on."

"Mhm. All right, all right... I'm calm. I'll follow you for now."

"You will? Why?"

"You seem to have a better head on your shoulders, at least for now."

--

Updated Pastebin with new companion; removed the alchemist as a companion since she's off somewhere else. You can still pursue her if you wish.

Which way will you go?

>Through the rioters.

>Through gang territory.

How will you deal with them?

>With steel. (roll 1d100; you will have a +1 AP bonus for engaging first)

>With a heart. (roll 1d100 + 5 and try to talk your way through)

>With copper. (throw some coins their way as you pass through in the hopes that it will distract them)

Where will you go next?

>Kongregatny (administrative/church district). If the rioters are going anywhere, it's there -- and you can assess the cathedral's damage or check on the barracks once you're there. Alternatively, you could go straight for an administrative building and try to figure out what the fuck is going on.

>Find the alchemist who escaped from you. The mage in the clinic was her master; she may know more than she lets on.

>Back to the butchery. You should see if anything has changed there.

>Somewhere else. (write-in)

--

That's all for tonight! The updates this time were a little bit longer than usual, but that's just because I wanted to develop a few plot elements today.

I will be hosting on Sunday! Still, check my Twitter if you're not completely sure what's up.

>>1201755
http://pastebin.com/Cqr9L2r0
and here it is.

Rolled 44 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1201755
>Through the rioters.
>With a heart. (roll 1d100 + 5 and try to talk your way through)
>Find the alchemist who escaped from you. The mage in the clinic was her master; she may know more than she lets on.

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>1201755
>Through the rioters.
>With a heart
>Kongregatny (administrative/church district). If the rioters are going anywhere, it's there -- and you can assess the cathedral's damage or check on the barracks once you're there. Alternatively, you could go straight for an administrative building and try to figure out what the fuck is going on.
Let's try to calm the rioters, the mages might become apparent if we manage to do so.

>>1201804
Yeah backing this.

Solid plan and roll.

>>1201804
This

File: chaos.jpg (106KB, 659x469px) Image search: [Google]

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As it turns out, I may not be running tonight. I slept horribly last night and I should probably work on my schedule tonight.

To make up for it, I plan on running a few times during the week and, of course, next weekend as well. Sorry for the trouble!

I will be running tonight!

Around 5:30-6:30 pm.

>>1201777
>>1201804
>>1202210
>>1202419

Running now!

>>1213284
https://hydra-media.cursecdn.com/dota2.gamepedia.com/6/60/Anti_magicuser_04.mp3
Nice.

File: angrybums.jpg (85KB, 512x433px) Image search: [Google]

85KB, 512x433px

>>1201777
>>1201804
>>1202210
>>1202419
>>1213284

99!

You hatch a plan and immediately inform Pyotr.

"I've an idea," you state, glaring at the disgruntled crowd. Pyotr rubs his chin curiously as you continue, "I will speak to them myself. Surely there is a reason for all this chaos, and I may be able to appeal to their sensibilities."

"I disagree," Pyotr says, shaking his head, "and since you're just a citizen and you surely don't know what we guardsmen go through on a daily basis, I'll forgive you for the ignorance of that proposal."

You are slightly taken aback.

"Ignorance?" you ask.

"Yes, ignorance. I have a little sister and a dog, both of which are more rational than the average Izbeglan scumbag. Go ahead if you think your tongue silver, but don't say I didn't warn you."

As the endless wave of dirt-brown and pale white continues to snake its way down the street, you throw yourself into the middle once you see an opening, and raise your voice.

It takes a moment, but you attract a few onlookers -- who regard you with baffled interest, perhaps regarding your bravery in trying to stop such a large crowd -- with your calls for attention.

You lose them quickly, and a few regard you with hungry eyes. They peer at your clothes and, you assume, peg you for a richer man trying to take advantage of the situation. Being the violent mob they are, they're surely not fond of some holier-than-thou fool trying to tell them what to do.

Thankfully, you manage to calm a few down, and even recruit a few to stand at your side in the process; you reason that whoever is inciting this riot is only trying to take advantage of the poor.

You rouse a large chunk of the crowd when you claim that the individuals responsible take them for gullible morons, and to your relief, they are just moronic and gullible enough to drop their cause like a bad habit, just because a marginally smarter person told them to. Clearly, Pyotr's been doing something wrong this whole time.

You have recruited ~64 angry rioters to your side, if only for a moment. As long as they're peeved about something they'll be willing to help you, and in this case you've got them worked up about being manipulated into rioting. Oh, the irony.

A single woman from the crowd -- young, blonde, and moderately attractive, possibly a housewife whose husband has fallen upon hard approaches you as most of the other rioters file off, seeing that their movement is losing its sway.

"What is this?!" she exclaims, throwing her arms up and slowly rotating around, gesturing at the hundreds of peasants and slaves breaking file or marching with less energy than before.

"Mob mentality." you mutter, although she doesn't seem to hear you over all the noise.

"Answer me!" she screams, her voice soon being drowned out by the peasants surrounding you.

In a fit of anger, the woman produces a potion from her belt and prepares to throw it at you.

[1/2]

File: thecathedral.jpg (148KB, 900x1330px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1213371

Thankfully, the mob makes short work of the troublesome (potentially magic) housewife.

The majority of your temporary supporters pile on top of the woman, while the rest pull you away from the ensuing bloodbath. She is unable to dispatch a single man before her head is pummeled to a bloody pulp, her dying body putting up a token resistance as she's drowned in a muddy puddle. Maybe recruiting a group of (possibly drug-crazed) slaves, peasants, and refugees was not such a great idea. You just hope to not lose their favor.

Nevertheless, you make the rest of your short journey to the Kongregatny without any further trouble.

As soon as you enter, you are overwhelmed by the beauty of the district, which is located mere blocks away from the death and despair of the poorer districts. Glistening fountains, paved white-brick roads, and enormous, imposing ancient buildings erected in black stone surround you at all angles.

Clergymen adorning robes of white and gold flee the moment they see you and your murderous crowd, often with nobility close behind.

You soon find yourself at the cathedral, a monumental building with stained glass images stretching higher than anything you've seen in your entire life. Most of the mob regard it with amazement, while others spit at the base of the holy site with contempt.

You see that it has sustained very little damage, which is curious considering the lack of guards in this district.

"Where is everyone?" Pyotr asks with some fear in his eyes, darting them around to find some trace of security. "How is this still intact if... what in the world happened here?!"

>Go to the barracks; you and Pyotr share the same question.

>Enter the cathedral for a brief prayer. The Lord may be able to help you.

>Enter a random administrative building. Something fishy is going on here.

>Try to find a high-quality tavern. You're still exhausted, and in no shape to combat evil.

What should the angry mob do?

>Tell the mob to focus their efforts on their own district.

>Tell the mob to investigate some place. (specify)

>Tell the mob to harass nobles and/or clergymen for information.

>Tell the mob to look for some trace of the local guard.

[2/2]
This is a time-sensitive issue.

>>1213425
Let Pyotr go to the barracks while we and the mob investigate the administrative buildings. They most likely will sack it but let's hope they calm down a bit after that.

>>1213425
>Go to the barracks; you and Pyotr share the same question.
>Tell the mob to focus their efforts on their own district.

>>1213425
Who says charisma is useless?
>Enter a random administrative building. Something fishy is going on here.
>Tell the mob to investigate some place.
>>Same admin building
Pick whichever building looks most important.

We want answers, the mob wants answers, might as well go on a mob-enforced fact-finding tour.

>>1213425
>Go to the barracks; you and Pyotr share the same question.

And let's keep the mob away from this. We don't want evidence or clues getting destroyed/looted by 64 pairs of boots.

>Tell the mob to focus their efforts on their own district

If we get even a tiny corner of this city under control, especially one that these people are comfortable with, we're helping more than if we're giving these guys the idea that they need to interfere further. I don't think sending them to both the guards or nobles is going to help us in any way.

>>1213490
Let's take note of which district they came from too as they leave, it wouldn't hurt to know an area of the city which contains people who have previously listened to us.

>>1213429
>>1213436
>>1213469
>>1213490
>>1213499

Barracks are locked in!

Would we like to send the mob...

>To investigate seneschals' buildings

or

>Back to the district you gained them from?

>>1213508
>>To investigate seneschals' buildings

>>1213508
If we're locked into going to the barracks, sending the mob to investigate on their own would be... bad.

Let's just send them back to their district.

>>1213519
They might become angrier that they came here for nothing.

One more vote on either option will have us using that option. If we don't get anymore votes, I'll just roll a 1d2.

>>1213527
Or they might be angrier that a prissy educated man is telling them to do his dirty work without helping out himself.

>>1213538
You have 5 minutes, as per the uzhe.

>>1213542
We're not really educated, although you're right that they would assume that. You're well-read, if anything.

>>1213508
back to their original district

>>1213508
>>1213513
>>1213519
>>1213527
>>1213538
>>1213542
>>1213546
>>1213557
Writing!

>>1213527
We're obviously not telling them "Okay people, show's over, fuck off!"
We're framing it that the cavalry simply isn't coming to save them and appealing to their sense of home, telling them to keep the peace in their own district.

File: barracks.png (139KB, 300x245px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1213513
>>1213519
>>1213527
>>1213538
>>1213542
>>1213546
>>1213557
>>1213564
>>1213603


You turn to the crowd and point in the direction of the Kongregatny's entrance.

"I need all of you to leave!" you shout, your voice cracking a little from the exertion.

A few people in the crowd put up a fight and demand that you let them exact revenge for some reason or another, but you insist that they will have an easier time investigating their manipulators by returning to their district and retracing their steps. The majority of the crowd are too dumb to argue, and those who argue are hushed by their friends and family.

Half a hundred reluctant faces turn away, almost in unison, and the crowd makes its way back in the direction of the decrepit slums from which they came. You'd feel bad for them if they weren't the kind of people who would rip your heart out for showing weakness.

What I just did with that crowd, you decide, was more dangerous than attempting to tame a pack of famished wolves.

Pyotr is relieved to see them gone.

"I still don't know how you did that." he says, awestruck, as he quietly counts the number of rioters while they leave his sight.

A few minutes later you find yourselves at the path to the barracks, which branches off slightly from the rest of the district. Located just a couple of streets away from two deliberately-placed towers at the city's inner wall, the building was surely built with the intention of protecting the Clergy before anyone else, which makes it all the more strange that the place is eerily silent.

Pyotr takes a coin pouch from his belt and, with unsteady hands, drops a copper coin onto the ground. All you hear is a clink and nothing more.

"This town's guard force..." Pyotr says, his voice trailing off. "...we didn't even send everyone out. It was just two svinja. I've killed at least ten in my life, and only two... only two have destroyed the town?"

"There's more at work here, Pyotr. That much is obvious." you declare, placing a hand on his back in consolation. He just slowly shakes his head and slowly lowers himself to his knees.

What will you do with him?

>Tell Pyotr to shape up. You're too weak to go in alone.

>Leave him here. The place is completely silent; you'll be fine.

>Encourage Pyotr to make his own decision.

How will you approach the barracks?

>Cautiously. (+5 to duplicity and mettle)

>Aggressively. Demand that those responsible present themselves before you. (+5 to strife and thwart)

>On second thought, you won't. Head somewhere else instead. (specify)

Where will you enter from? (if you choose to enter, that is)

>The front door.

>A back door; ask Pyotr what other entrances there are if necessary.

>You will attempt to scale a wall. (which one?) (roll 1d100 if you do this)

The barracks look almost identical to the one in the picture.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDTqZjTPjro

>>1213645
>>Tell Pyotr to shape up. You're too weak to go in alone.
>Cautiously. (+5 to duplicity and mettle)
>The front door.
They will never see it coming

>>1213527
Scratch that, you were right, that's apparently what we're doing.

>>1213645
>Tell Pyotr to shape up. You're too weak to go in alone.
>Cautiously. (+5 to duplicity and mettle)
>A back door; ask Pyotr what other entrances there are if necessary.

>>1213645
>Encourage Pyotr to make his own decision.
>Cautiously. (+5 to duplicity and mettle)
>A back door; ask Pyotr what other entrances there are if necessary.

Cautious approach is locked in. Now I just need to know what we'll be doing with Pyotr and where we'll enter from.

>>1213527
>>1213692
I wouldn't really say that you just told them to fuck off. You just suggested that they would be more effective investigating their own district.

>>1213645
>>Encourage Pyotr to make his own decision.
>The front door.

>>1213704
>Tell Pyotr to shape up. You're too weak to go in alone
>The front door.

>>1213660
>>1213692
>>1213704
>>1213752
>>1213777
>>1213792
Writing!

File: barracksdoor.jpg (350KB, 787x1024px) Image search: [Google]

350KB, 787x1024px

>>1213660
>>1213692
>>1213704
>>1213752
>>1213777
>>1213792
>>1213797
You place your hand upon Pyotr's shoulder, then point forward.

"Are you ready, then?" you ask. Pyotr just shakes his head.

"This is a lot to take in. I'd like to wait a moment." he says.

"No, let's investigate. You want to see what happened here, don't you?" you exhort, a little annoyed that the man seems to have the emotional consistency of a young girl.

"Damn it. Just don't get pissed if I walk out in disgust, especially if it turns out that the rest of my brothers-in-arms have been slaughtered in my absence."

You are satisfied with this response.

You confront the defensive structure with caution, slowly approaching the entrance with your falx drawn as Pyotr brings up his crossbow. The doors of this building are no trivial matter -- upon closer inspection, you find that this door, along with all the others outside the building, is heavily reinforced. No matter how much pressure you apply, the door does not open.

"Allow me." Pyotr offers, nodding toward the door. You step away and he makes a valiant effort to kick it open, but the effort is ultimately wasted.

"Funny," says the distraught guardsman, "they told me not to waste my time looking for the key today."

"What?"

"Yeah. I lost my key and my commander told me that dealing with the threat was more important. 'I've got mine; we'll take care of this and head on back' he says. I'll bet that bastard's in on this whole damn thing."

>Continue trying to force the door.

>Scale up to a window. Maybe Pyotr has a rope?

>Slam on the the door and demand that someone open it.

>Look for another entrance.

>Use Divulge Secret on Pyotr when he's not looking. Maybe he's hiding something from you.

>Something else. (write-in)

Regardless of your choice, roll 1d100 + 5. (+5 for duplicity bonus)

>>1213872
Nevermind guys, my mom wants me to go to bed early.

See you all tomorrow!

>>1213889
Nice tripcode.

Rolled 55 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1213752
Yeah, but "I need all of you to leave!" probably didn't do us any favours and we didn't exactly instill them with the sense that they're taking over as peacekeepers in the guards absence or whatever. Still, it worked, and our hero shouldn't always resolve things perfectly, so, all good.

>>1213872
>Look for another entrance
I think we should keep an eye on Pyotr, but we're not going to reveal that we're suspicious of him so obviously when we're weakened

File: amusedfacedotjaypeg.png (17KB, 570x533px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1213889
this fucking guy

Rolled 43 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1213889
We have IDs, genius.

>>1213872
>Look for another entrance
If we keep messing with the door, any unfriendlies will just stack up there and gut us when we go through, and scaling to a window is obvious and takes time.

Rolled 98 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>1213872
>Scale up to a window. Maybe Pyotr has a rope?

File: decayed.jpg (98KB, 758x576px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1213889
>>1213893
>>1213896
>>1213901
>>1213921
>>1214009


60

You decide to look for another entrance, but two failed doors later you find yourself on the verge of giving up. The already smoggy atmosphere grows even thicker as you progress around the side of the building, and it eventually becomes so oppressive that you feel like screaming out in frustration.

Thankfully, the Lord decides to spare you from an outburst, as you find a slanted hatch at the back of the barracks that leads into its basement.

"I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but they clearly wanted to lock this place up tight," Pyotr admits, easily flinging open the hatch. He offers to go in first for your own your own good, an offer which you wouldn't even consider denying.

You take a torch off the side of the wall as you descend and Pyotr lights it with his tinderbox.

The atmosphere down here is only slightly less oppressive than it was outside. The air is musty, the halls beneath the building are long and winding, and nothing of utility appears to be stored here. It's nothing more than a backup storage room that doubles as a breeding ground for diseased rodents.

Ahead of you lies several twisting hallways, which Pyotr describes as the "shitway" where enemies of the Clergy sometimes lose themselves. Allegedly, every building in the Kongregatny is connected to the same tunnel, and heretics that are too troublesome to deal with through trial are flayed and thrown down here. That would partly explain the smell.

To your right are a few cells with a lot of space. Pyotr explains these as temporary holding places for minor thugs who haven't yet been tried, but he stops halfway through his explanation when he sees that everyone inside of the cells has their throat cut.

"I... think you should try to find something to secure the hatch outside. I'm starting to think there are people who don't want us down here." Pyotr suggests anxiously.

>Try to find something to secure the hatch. This may waste some time if the perpetrator is still present within the barracks.

>Ignore everything in the bowels and just ascend to the first floor of the barracks. You need answers and you need them now.

>Investigate the corpses.

>Ask Pyotr for his suggestion.

>Write-in.

>>1214028
thaaaat's kind of suspicious.
>Ask Pyotr for his suggestion.
>Use Divulge Secret on Pyotr when he's not looking. Maybe he's hiding something from you.

>>1214028
>>1214050
that

>>1214028
>Ask Pyotr for his suggestion
>Investigate the corpses
Do not go inside the cell to investigate the corpses, even though this will probably prevent us from learning much.

It could be that whatever did it could corner us inside, or we could get locked in if Pyotr betrays us/the killer is quick and clever.

>>1214050
This

File: dontsaythat.jpg (47KB, 589x200px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1214050
>>1214093
>>1214099
>>1214106

"What's your suggestion?" you ask Pyotr, who seems to be staring blankly at a wall. It takes him a moment to rouse his senses into action, but he responds eventually.

"Oh. I said already." he answers.

Pyotr continues staring blankly. You're pretty sure this day's events are finally hitting him in full force. You've had similar feelings of emptiness, but that's a story for another day.

You mutter the command words for the antispell Divulge Secrets, which spurs his mostly inactive mind into overtime. He is utterly powerless to stop his lips from quivering, and not a moment later he feels an urge to speak.

Stealth-casting Divulge Secrets is a guaranteed success the first time you do it.

"I molested my younger sister." Pyotr blurts, his eyes suddenly going wide. He whips his head back to face you, then looks back to the wall. He does this for a few more seconds as you regard him with a blank expression.

"Why did I just say that? I felt strangely compelled, and... fuck. I guess it can't stay a secret forever. I hardly even know you and you're the first person I've ever told that to."

Before he can say any more secrets, Pyotr becomes acutely aware of his situation. His alertness returns, and he demonstrates it by staring at you with more anxiety and confusion than you've ever seen in your life.

>"That is abhorrent. I will continue to work with you, but I cannot tolerate molestation. We're through as soon as we figure out what happened here."

>"Ah, I see."

>Just do as he suggested and find a way to secure the basement entrance; you probably didn't get any relevant secrets because he doesn't have any.

>Distract him and try again. (1d100 + 5 roll)

>Something else. (write-in)

>>1214174
And of course, saying that molestation is abhorrent and still keeping Pyotr as a companion is an option as well.

Railroading sucks and I only tolerate it when it's absolutely crucial to saving a quest.

>>1214174
>"Ah, I see."
"It's good that you got that off your chest. Now let's focus on the task at hand."
We're going to have a little TALK with Pyotr later, but now is not the time.

>>1214174
>Ah, I see.
>That's abhorrent, but we have more important things to worry about right now
No context is known, and more importantly it isn't wise to overly agitate the only help we really have down here. We can grill him about it later if we both get out alive.

>>1214174
>"That is abhorrent. I will continue to work with you, but I cannot tolerate molestation. As soon as we figure out what happened here you must repent and seek out forgiveness."

>>1214183
>>1214196
>>1214222
>>1214224
"Ah, I see..." you say after a moment of weighing Pyotr's good traits with the bad ones, although you haven't known him long enough to tell for sure whether he's as decent a man as you assume.

You come to the conclusion that you have done horrible things just the same or else you wouldn't have been put in a heretic prison in the first place.

"All right," you utter, breaking the silence at long last, "I will continue to work with you, as abhorrent and intolerable as I find molestation to be. We will speak more on this later."

Pyotr nods shamefully.

Do you secure the basement door?

>Yes, it'll be obvious that someone broke in, and if there really is a conspiracy at play then you'll just be painting a target on our chest.

>No, you need an escape route and you don't trust Pyotr.

Which way do you go?

>To the cells; investigate the corpses.

>Upward, to the barracks proper.

>Into the "shitway," as Pyotr calls it.

>>1214255
>Yes, it'll be obvious that someone broke in, and if there really is a conspiracy at play then you'll just be painting a target on our chest.

>To the cells; investigate the corpses

>>1214255
>No, you need an escape route
>To the cells; investigate the corpses.
see if they fought their killers

>>1214255
your chest*

woops.

>>1214278
>>1214291
1d100s, please.

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>1214297
Halp plox gad

>>1214255
>Yes, it'll be obvious that someone broke in, and if there really is a conspiracy at play then you'll just be painting a target on our chest.
>To the cells; investigate the corpses
Again, do not enter the cells.

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>1214315

I'll take one more roll.

>>1214334
Woops, it's me.

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>1214255
>>Yes, it'll be obvious that someone broke in, and if there really is a conspiracy at play then you'll just be painting a target on our chest.
>To the cells; investigate the corpses.

>>1214278
>>1214291
>>1214297
>>1214314
>>1214315
>>1214321
>>1214334
>>1214341
>>1214346

Getting tired so this will be the last update for the night. Writing now.

File: a_cell.jpg (81KB, 900x384px) Image search: [Google]

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>>1214278
>>1214291
>>1214314
>>1214315
>>1214321
>>1214346

52

You begin scrounging around for something to cover the basement doors with. Pyotr steps in and offers to do it for you while you investigate something else, as though assisting with menial tasks will somehow undo his crimes against the Lord and common decency.

After Pyotr finds a chain lying at the entrance of the corpse tunnel, he gets to work on the door.

You walk over to the cells and consider the possibility of breaking into them, but decide against it when you realize that you'd just be putting yourself in a compromising position by doing so. It's bad enough that you've effectively locked yourself into the barracks by covering the exit.

You notice that most of the corpses belong to men who had a multitude of different body types, although the distinctions end there. Besides their body types, a common theme among the deceased is that they're all pale, somewhat sickly-looking, and bald.

Pyotr returns to your side.

You point out the similarities to him, but he simply explains that most of the prisoners have fit the male demographic from the beginning, and they tend to be shaven according to judicial customs. You don't find that conspicuous. In fact, it's not even interesting; you can personally attest to the fact that criminals have their heads shaven, given that your hair has only barely grown back.

Pyotr examines the corpses a bit closer, and comes to a conclusion.

"I have no doubt in my mind now. I've seen all of these people at least once, I swear it -- the worrisome part isn't that they're here, it's that someone wanted to shut them up," Pyotr reasons, "and judging by the drag marks in these cells, and the fact that most of the corpses are off in corners, I think they've been starved to the point where they couldn't put up a fight. We tend to feed our prisoners here, so I'm pretty damn sure someone's been planning to make a move on the city for a long time. If only I had noticed sooner."

If only.

--

That's all for tonight, folks!
More conspiracy, chaos, mages, and even new things next time on Antimage.

>>1214439
No mage killed in this thread boo

>>1214575
The angry mob killed a woman with a potion who may have been a mage.