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"Another one, Bertram." You call out to the bartender as you slam the mug you've just emptied greedily on the wooden counter, and you stagger unsteadily on the bar stool, struggling to remain in control of your own body in the presence of such an unholy amount of alcohol. As you finally manage to not fall out of your seat after an incredible effort, you push yourself forward and beach yourself on the sturdy counter, where as you look upwards, you manage a glance at the heavily built bartender (who you count as one your closest friends).
He isn't the happiest you've ever seen him.
"Jack, you ought to quit for tonight. I'm sorry for your loss, but at this rate you'll be joinin-" Is all he manages to get out before you snatch a mug from a nearby spot on the counter and begin guzzling more of the precious liquid as quick as you can before Bertram manages to stop you.
You did better than you expected, as you end up taking out half the bottle before Bertram rushes you and pries it from your fingers with iron fingers and an annoyed scowl. He shoves you lightly, though at this point it's more than enough to send you sprawling backwards and you feel your back send a wave of pain on impact with the rickety wooden floor.
"Fucking hell, Jack. Look, brother. You need to stop."
"I'm fine, Bert. Just..need another...bottle." You slur slowly as you crawl upright, and lean against the wall to prevent yourself from falling down again.
"Goddammit, man." He mutters, and he pulls you up and lets you lean on him as the two of you make your way to the battered doors of the pub, opening them with a mighty shoulder check and exposing the both of you to the chilly evening. You look around and find the sun dropping low in the horizon, marking it's final descent within the next hour or two. Darkened woods surround you, making a rueful exception at the pub and the paved road laid down to divide civilization and wild savagery.
"Look, Jack", Bertram shouts to make himself heard over the whistling of the cold country wind, "I need to close the place up for the night, mostly because of you, but anyways. Stay here, and I'll come back in a bit and bring you back home alright mate."
You nod, and he heads back inside with gusto, no doubt not trusting you to stay still, inebriated as you are.
Some minutes pass, and naught but the frigid wind blowing and the new arrival of snowfall provides you with any companionship as the buzzing in your head continues unabated. Eventually, with nothing left to do, your mind begins to play what you came to the pub to forget, you produce a frustrated scream.
(1/2)
>>
>>514163
//A black coffin. A few mournful figures. A hole, six feet deep. A ring.//
Thankfully, you are drawn out of the abyss by the tell-tale ring of steel and a drawn-out YELP of pain somewhere deep in the woods. As your eyes focus in the direction of the sound, you notice the faint glint of a bottle in a pile of snow by a tree across the road.
>Grab the bottle, investigate the noise
>Call for Bertram, and see if he'd be willing to explore the noise
>Wait for Bertram, bring it up when he comes back
>>
>>514165
>Call for Bertram, and see if he'd be willing to explore the noise
Maybe find something sturdier then a bottle for protection, though, like an old two-by-four from the back.
>>
>>514163 (OP)
>Wait for Bertram, bring it up when he comes back
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)
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>>514194
You waltz over to the door, and knock a few times on the wood to make your request heard. Seconds later, Bertram comes out of the door and peeks his head out of the door with a questioning expression written on his face.
“Yeah, Jack?” Bertram asks, with a noticeable mixture of curiosity and annoyance and a few fresh stains on his publican apron.
You merely point in the direction of the noise and reply slowly, “Heard some trouble down thataways.”
Another ringing of steel cuts through the air, and a bestial scream is heard in the distance. At the sound, Bertram’s face turns grim and he gives you a nod before heading back into the pub. You stretch a little bit, fuzzy as your vision and judgement are, and a few seconds later Bertram comes out of the pub with a wooden club and a sword on his hip. Drawing the blade, he gives you a grin and tosses you the club, which you catch with your body more than your hands.
Locking the door behind him, he waves forwards, and the two of you trudge through the thickening snow, and into the blackened woods. Making your way through the fresh snow is tough without snow-shoes, and especially so with as much alcohol in your system but you fight through it. Somewhere in your brain, the functioning part at least, you know up ahead is a fight. And from prior experience, you know nothing will focus a man’s priorities quite like a fight for survival.
Coming across a clearing in the woods, Bertram dives into a nearby snowbank, and waves you quickly to follow him, which you do with slight difficulty and a little cursing. The two of you peek above the bank and take in the insane scene playing out in the snow. A hard-faced woman in red is defending a small child with a bloodstained blade against a group of huge humanoid figures, though even from here you can tell they aren’t quite human. The aggressors are clad in black and brown furs, with a few raggedy pieces of armor laid in between, and certainly looking for a fight, armed with wicked-looking blades and axes as they are.
A few bodies litter the ground, and you identify them as the King’s men by the crest they bear on their armor and weapons. In the background a few horses are scattered, milling about in confusion, no doubt from the untimely demise of their riders. An ambush, you think through your self-induced inebriation, and an effective one if they chose this little clearing to do so. Most of those knights look like they didn’t even get to draw before being rushed down. Bertram puts a hand on your shoulder, and points at the woman, who is currently fending off an overhead axe blow with a precise parry that sends the clumsy strike directed at her reeling backwards. Impressive as the swordplay is, she won’t be able to keep it up for long, if the numerous cuts and slashes on her person are as deep as you think they are.
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>>514575
“Shit Jack, they’re toying with her!” Bertram whispers to you in an angry but dispirited voice, the two of you knowing those inhuman ambushers are playing with their prey like a cat would. Even now, they fan out slowly to encircle the embattled woman and her charge with wolf-like co-ordination. You count at least seven attackers, much more than you and Bertram can expect to reliably take on, even with the element of surprise. Regardless, it might just be the alcohol in you, or it could be the volcanic build-up of fury and grief inside you, but you realize this isn’t a fight you’re going to be backing away from.
>Get their attention to draw the attackers away from the woman for now
>Get Bertram to charge in with you, hoping to crush the enemy’s morale with a surprise attack
>Split up, and try to draw some of the attackers out
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>>514579
> get her attention
GET TO THE CHOPPAA- tavern, tavern I mean.
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>>514653
"We get their attention for now, then see if we can get back to the pub. It'll be easier than fighting them all in the open." You whisper intently to Bertram, who to his credit, doesn't back out of what could possibly be a suicidal action. Nodding, he grips his sword with both hands and waits for your distraction.
You pop out of the snowbank, and cradle some snow together in your palm and make a solid snowball. Winding up your arm, you throw a blindingly fast curveball that takes the lead attacker in the back of the head. It lets out a roar of rage, and turns to face you with hatred in it's eyes and a murderous axe in one hand.
"You're one ugly...motherfucker!" You drunkenly slur at the creature before it's fellows decide to round on you and charge at you, their heavy footfalls leaving deep impressions in the snow.
A dying bestial sound catches your attention, and you find that the woman has ran the monster through the heart with her blade, a grateful smile on her face that soon dissolves into her previous mask of stone concentration as the lone straggler of the pack decides to duel with her in a fit of revenge.
That leaves the other five with you and Bertram, and as they climb up the bank in furious charge, you wind up your club as Bertram prepares similarly to cut down the first foe to crest the top.
>(d100)
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>>514738
Lets go clubbing!
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Rolled 65 (1d100)
>>514758
My bad
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)
>>514738
Rolling for wiping those snarls off of their ugly mugs
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>>514763
>>514770
Drunken rage provides the strength, the bestial tusked face that pokes itself above the snow bank provides the target.
You swing the club with as much force as you can, and it takes the beast in the face with a thunderous cracking sound, dropping the ugly bastard like a rock and sending him rolling down in the snow. Bertram finds his target as well, catching another beast with a horrendous blow along the neck, nearly severing the head from the body in a single swing.
That leaves three more coming for the two of you, and without hesitation they charge upwards swinging furiously at you and Bertram, missing only by virtue of their berserk rage and the uphill climb making them misjudge the distances. You flinch backwards and Bertram follows, both knowing that two on three against these creatures on even footing would still be a mistake. You could back off to the Pub like you had planned, but that would leave the wounded woman dueling head-to-head with that last straggler, not to mention that kid.
>Brace yourself for a straight up fight on the top of the bank
>Back off and draw the two to the Pub, leaving the woman and child to fend for themselves against the final straggler
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>>514788
Lets stay fight
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>>514788
> flee!
The girl can handle one on one
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>>514873
>>514857
"Bertram! Back to the Pub!" You yell as you duck under a colossal axe swing and leap backwards, which leads to you falling down your side of the snow bank.
"Got it!" Bertram replies as he parries a similar attack, opting to jump like you but making sure he ends up landing solidly on his two feet.
The sudden retreat catches the creatures off-guard, and they don't even spare a glance at the two of you running away as fast as possible until it's much too late for them to close into combat with you without a chase. Which they provide, of course.
Hooting and roaring, the beasts run after you with a speed that would worry you if you weren't so close to the Pub already. As you reach the front doors, Bertram picks out a key and fumbles with it before finally getting the door open and the two of you dive inside with vigor. Locking the doors, you barricade the front with a few chairs and stools, while Bertram lights the fireplace again.
The two of you wait in silence, anticipating the arrival of the beastmen, which thankfully doesn't take long at all. Howls and the sounds of splintering wood combine as one of them decides to take his axe against the doors.
"The door won't hold forever, Jack." Bertram whispers to you, much more nervous than you are, sober as he is.
>Sneak out back, attack from behind once they get the door open
>Hold out with Bertram
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>>515496
>hold out
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>>515496
> hold out
Set up some furniture around the door so they can't just rush in, open the door, kill then one by one.
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>>515537
"We'll hold here, when they break through, we'll be waiting." You reply, walking back to the bar and grabbing a drink for yourself.
Guzzling down yet another beer, you find yourself inured to the normal despair that accompanies impending doom, and decide you like the feeling. To your surprise, Bertram joins you, and the two of you make merry as the thump of axes smashing through the door becomes louder and louder. Several minutes, and an unhealthy amount of alcohol later, you finally see the door breaking to pieces, and as it collapses, the beastmen begin to shoulder check the door to push the furniture out.
Drunkenly staggering over to the door, you and Bertram arrange a circle of stools and benches to create a crude secondary layer to the barricade. As the last one is placed, the door bursts open and the beastmen charge forwards, screaming and roaring with their axes held high.
They notice the circle of furniture a little late, slowing down their charge to a slight jog and taking much too long to recognize that you and Bertram have placed yourselves in perfect position to use this little funnel.
Hefting your club, you stretch it behind you and wait for the beastman nearest to you to enter your range, the work of a few seconds.
Bertram does the same with his sword, and the two of you share a smile as the fight begins in earnest.
>(d100)
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Rolled 20 (1d100)
>>516222
Drunken dice gods go!
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)
>>516222
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)
>>516222
Fuck 'em
>>
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>>516333
You swing your club with only the kind of force a drunk possesses, and it staggers one of the beastmen on impact, but doesn't do much more immediate damage. No doubt it's broken a rib or something similar, but in the terms of this fight it hasn't done much besides buy a few seconds respite. The beastman behind it launches itself forwards and clips your shoulder with an axe blow, sending you reeling backwards and spitting blood everywhere from your wound.
Bertram furiously parries and counter-attacks the remaining beast, but doesn't manage to get any solid strikes in.
You manage to steady yourself, and take a few solid steps back into the fray, where you eye the beastman that wounded attempting to climb over the makeshift barricade. Unable to guard itself, you make a leap forwards, your club held above your heads in preparation for a crushing blow to hopefully take this bastard out of the fight, or better, out of it's cunt existence.
>d100
>>
Rolled 11 (1d100)
>>516648
>>
>>516648
Its clobberin time
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Rolled 54 (1d100)
>>516684
Sorry again
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)
>>516648
nb4 our best friend dies and we have to be angry at sword lady for every because he died for her
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>>517197
>>516690
>>516670
Swing.
Crack.
Smile.
You catch the beastman on his undefended stomach, curling him up with a sickening CRUNCH and laying him out solid for a minute or two at least.
Your satisfaction doesn't last long, however, as you turn to face the first beastman who has by now promptly marched up to you and wound up his massive fist. A brown, furry comet explodes straight into your face and knocks you flat on your ass, leaving you completely helpless as you see stars and various other cosmological entities circling around you.
As you recover, you see an axe blade headed straight for you, which is to say your impending doom. You close your eyes and prepare yourself for the nothingness to envelop you, but instead all you hear is an enormous ringing and as you open your eyes you see Bertram holding his blade in the path of the axe.
Watching him struggle against the sheer strength of the foe, you grab your club off the floor and lay a two-handed blow to the back of the head into the offending beastman. He collapses like a sack of rocks, and you and Bertram almost high-five right on spot.
Instead, however, an axe blade buries itself in the back of Bertram with a visible and audible THUNK sound. As he drops, you ready your club and face the beastman responsible with a rictus smile of pure hatred.
The two of you size each other up, each an equal distance away from the prostrate body of Bertram.
This fucker is going to pay, one way or another.
>(d100)
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)
>>517735
>>
>>517827
Oops
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)
>>517735
dontfuckupdontfuckupdontfuckup
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)
>>517735
Is this dead?
>>
>>518651
>>517915
>>517827
>I just have a shitty update schedule and a shitty real life schedule, don't worry about it.
You drop your club. This one's personal.
As he charges you like the brainless fuckface that he is, you sidestep and jam a brutal left hook directly into his ugly mug, knocking his head backwards and staggering him a few steps. With that time, you sprint over to the bar and grab another bottle, giving yourself a quick drink before walking right back to your opponent. You let loose a right cross at him, intent on knocking his lights out, but somehow the beastman takes it straight and counters with one of his own, nearly breaking something in your jaw.
Pushed on the defensive, you take another blow in the chest, your drunken rage barely sustaining you enough to keep you on your feet and not bowled over on the ground like a normal man. Screaming, you break the bottle over the head of the Beastman, stunning it and shattering into a hundred glass shards, many of which embed themselves in the bestial cranium you broke them in.
Armed with a sharp glass dagger of a sorts, you drive it deep into stomach flesh, intent on pulling right out and repeating the action again and again but it seems the beastman has other ideas. Grabbing your hand, he headbutts you with lightning speed, sending you flying backwards and sprawled onto the ground. He pulls out the glass bottle with his own hands, intent on gutting you like a fish.
You aren't going to let him get away with that, though. Grabbing a nearby stool with a solid hand, you bring it to bear on the Beastman and the two of you trade blows with makeshift weapons at will.
At last, covered in both beastman and human blood, you drop the remains of the broken stool on the smashed body of your opponent. Finding another bottle behind the counter, you empty it and decide to pass out where you stand, hoping the blood-loss doesn't make it so you never wake up again.
>d100
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)
>>518796
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)
>>518796
We not checking on our bff?
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>>518825
You dream of bottles of alcohol, fighting and blood, and memories of your now-dead friend Bertram.
You wish you could dream like this forever.
As it is, you awaken in a conspicuously clean bed next to a lit candle, and with a man who looks like a doctor at your side on a stool.
"You're awake. Finally." The doctor states matter-of-factly, before nodding and checking something off on a brown clipboard.
"Bertram make it?" You ask, rather hopefully, though you don't really expect much considering the impact of that axe on his back.
"Somehow." The doctor grins and points at the opposite corner of the room, where Bertram is sleeping in a fashion that you suspect you imitated in your own incapacitation.
Suddenly, a knock on the door precipitates a visitor. The two of you glance at the door, and you find yourself shocked at the person who appears.
The woman you saw before in the clearing, clothes a little more bloodstained than before somehow and covered in a plethora of bandages and a sling for her arm. The kid follows at her heels, similarly stained in red.
>Express relief
>Demand payment
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>>519079
Exspres relief. Say something like from your sworsdsmanship, i figured you could take one.
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>>519079
> express relief
Damn, what was I drinking last night
>>
>>
>>519079
>>Express relief
Hey, you're alive! This calls for a celebration! Doctor, rounds on me... (pass back out) snoooorrrrreee...
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>>519251
Ha, typing up part two?
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>>519251
So did you forget your trip and change your IP.
>>
>>
>>519293
You mean guy.
I thought as much oh well.
is it just me or is the whole board slow today.
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>>519295
Yeah, I'm getting the same feeling too. The ones I usually visit are all running Tuesday, for some reason, so at least it'll pick up.
>>
>>519311
What are some good ones?
The last quest I got hevaly into( the Craton Reed quest) dropped of the map a few weeks ago i haven't really found any new good ones that have stuck around for any leanth of time.
>>
>Express relief
"Glad you and the kid made it out." You give her a winning smile, which she returns quickly.
"If it wasn't for you and your friend, we wouldn't have. You two were very brave, going out of your way and risking your lives for complete strangers."
She does an elaborate curtsy, which seems strange considering her armor and the wide variety of bloodstains on it, "Rosamund Kingsley, of His Majesty's Royal Guard."
Pointing to the child she makes an fanciful gesture with her hand, "And the Princess herself, sole heir to the throne."
Shock clearly evident on your face, the Doctor manages to take control of the situation before you'd start to curse and make a scene of things.
"Rosamund here saved both your lives, she caught up to the Pub and managed to stop some of the bleeding on the two of you before stumbling down the road to alert the entire village. Which brought me, of course, and just in time considering the extent of the injuries the two of you had taken."
Not entirely satisfied, you still manage to hold back your disbelief and settle into a more logical state of mind and action.
(Asking questions) (Asking order)
>So where were the two of you headed before the ambush?
>Where are you planning on going next?
>What happens now?
>>
>>519384
Well, I'm playing Magical Girl For Hire Quest, that's pretty fun for me, considering I've avoided most of the "You're a Magical Girl, in a world that doesn't fit a Magical Girl anime" quests that pop up like weeds. >>513191
German Schteel's Starship Idols is enjoyable. I've never thought I'd have as much fun roleplaying as a alcoholic Scottish Lieutenant/Christmas Cake as I would have.
The guy who did the NERV Bridge Quest is back, with what I think is the first quest that is actually fully animated. So far, we're playing as a French (maybe...) high school girl who's been seeing weird specters and ghosts recently who's now drunkenly hanging out with her friends in a hot tub. Shit is about to go down, of course. >>503619
DIMINUTIVE DUNGEON DELVERS is basically people playing a TTRPG, which is useful for me, because my table top friends are a bunch of fucking flakes, and no-one wants to be the DM. The art's pretty cute, and there's some funny bits in there. >>500815
Finally, there's Audit Quest. Read it. Every two months it happens, and it typically breaks 1,500 posts. It's fun, the art's cute, go read it goddamn it. http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Audit%20Quest
>>
>>519450
>So where were the two of you headed before the ambush?
>>
>>519450
>>Where are you planning on going next?
>>What happens now?
>>Wanna get a drink or two before heading back on the road? My treat, o'course.
>>
>>519468
Thanks m8.
I'll look into these.
>>
>>519450
> where was your party heading?
> what happens now
Do we know IC what those monsters where?
>>
>>519484
No problem. Just keep in mind, those are the ones that are running slow tonight.
>>
>>519538
>>519483
>>519475
>So where were the two of you headed before the ambush?
"Away from the Capital, infiltrators have emerged in the Capital, and have opened the gate to an invasion of beastmen. The King and most of his court have remained to contest them, but he opted to send the Princess away from danger. Of course, it seems we were being followed by a contingent of foes on the way here."
You blink while your head tries to pull up some relevant information that may prove useful right now. Harder than you imagined, due to the splitting hangover, but you pull through. The King has waged war on the beastfolk of the forests on the grounds of territorial disputes, and various atrocities committed by both sides. Of course that fight was the first you've ever seen of the beastfolk, and it seems the rumours about their tenacity and prowess in combat are well founded.
>What happens now?
"We'll have to keep moving to Fort Dauntless, a bastion belonging to the King and one of the few safe havens where the Princess will be protected completely. It's a few days from here, and I believe we'll make up the time if we keep at it."
"Of course, this question was going to come up eventually. Would you and your friend like to accompany us there? You seem to be accomplished fighters, and our original escort are...no longer with us."
>Yes
>No
>Write-In
>>
>>519652
Yes, but we will need our food and loging paid for.
Say it in a kind tone.
>>
>>519652
>Write-In
"Err, Ma'am, I don't think I can speak much for my friend here, seeing as he's knocked out and all. While I've got no problem with it, for a bit o' coin, I'd like to talk with him about it. After all, Bert's a bit of a fixture at the pub, and it ain't fair to drag him off without him agreeing."
Wait for Bertram to wake up so you can talk to him about it.
>>
>>519652
>yes
>>
>>519715
Yarr, this. We have nothing better to do.
>>
>>519682
>>519715
>>519865
"I'm sold, lady. Of course, I'm not exactly the most financially stable at the moment, so I would have to rely on you for food and lodging, if that wouldn't be too much to ask."
She doesn't miss a beat, and gives you a wry smile. "You're fine with only food and lodging? No exorbitant fee, no special requests or anything?"
You reply nonchalantly, "Miss, I don't exactly have anything else going on in my life. Shoot, I was in the middle of drowning myself in beer when your little predicament came around. You might have to come back and talk Bertram into doing so, however. He's got his own little thing going with the Pub and all."
She gives you a slight nod, and a tiny grin that you spot in the corner of her mouth. "I see."
"Well, we can either wait a few days here to rest up, or we can get going as soon as we work out the details with your friend and resupply."
>Rest up here and lose some time
>Go as soon as possible
>>
>>519999
>>Rest up here and lose some time
Nice quads.
We're still healing. Wait until Doc says we're free to go before we leave the clinic, because they know what they're doing.
>>
>>519999
>>Go as soon as possible
After a hair of the dog to take the edge off of the hangover. Hell if we hang around here for too long and get bored we will probably get in some other painful situation.
>>
You agree to leave as soon as possible, and as such, you get out of bed and visit the nearest Pub to get drunk until Rosamund works out things with Bertram and arranges the supplies and all that.
After a particularly productive day in overloading your body with alcohol, you are shaken awake by an insistent hand on your shoulder. Turning with a killer hangover, you see Bertram handing you a glass of water, which you down in seconds. Next, he pulls up a sword and hands it to you, no doubt one of the blades found on the ambushed escort considering he still has his worn on his hip.
With a few words of encouragement, and a steady arm, the two of you manage to get outside, where Rosamund and the Princess are waiting on horseback. You get on your horse with Bertram's help, and then he jumps onto his with vigor. Eyeing the background, you find that it's a little before noon-time judging by the position of the sun and the shadows. With a wave, Rosamund starts off on the road and you and Bertram follow.
The next half-day passes by quietly, horseshoes on paved stone reigns as the dominant sound as the four of you travel across the pleasant country road, and there is precious little to worry about as the path seems empty today.
Camp is made as night falls, by the side of the road, and some rations are passed out along with water. There isn't a campfire, the risk of discovery is much too high and could bring the wrong kind of attention, even if this area of the kingdom is ruled secure.
The mood is passable, and tending injuries takes up the majority of camp time, covered in wounds as you and the other adults are. Rosamund nannies the Princess until she falls quietly asleep, leaving the next hour or so free until the watches are set.
Looking rather thoughtful, the brown-haired figure of Rosamund approaches you and Bertram with a question on her lips, if you haven't lost your touch concerning reading expressions.
"I'm curious," Rosamund directs at the two of you, "how did a drunkard and a publican learn how to fight, not to mention a sense of tactics?"
"It's a long story," Bertram replies for you with a smile, "I suppose we've enough time to go over it a little."
He turns, clearly expecting you to fill her in about the trials and tribulations the two of you have experienced to your middle age.
>Soldiers of the King, a long time ago
>Mercenaries, good ones too
>You tend to learn these things in the Constabulary, especially once you've done it long enough to retire
>>
>>521209
Constabulary.
>>
>>521209
I suppose I could go for constabulary too, fit something different from the usual experienced fighter retires to remote tavern thing
>>
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>>521215
>>521238
"Me and Bert here served in the Constabulary for long enough to retire, and you tend to learn a lot of things in the force, fighting and thinking while you fight included." You reply with a good-natured grin, giving Bertram's shoulder a solid thwack with your fist.
"Bertram here decided to open a Pub, a rather common occupation for retired Constables you know."
Your smile fades as you begin to talk about yourself, and the mood turns somber.
"I, on the other hand, ended up the town drunk. Too drunk half the time to be useful for much, and the other half too busy working odd jobs here and there to pay for the alcohol and the basement I sleep in."
Rosamund's face takes on something that looks a little like pity as she asks her next question, "What....happened?"
The expression on your face dissuades her from asking any further questions, and you grab some alcohol from your pack and begin to drink.
Bertram certainly doesn't approve, but lets it go for now.
A strangled silence plays out while you continue drinking, until Bertram grabs your arm with a grip made of steel, wrenching the bottle out of your hand.
Deprived of your vice, you think of just going to sleep, but you decide to try to fix the little rift you've made with Rosamund.
[ASKING ORDER AGAIN]
>What's your story?
>What are you good at?
>What do you want to do with your life?
>>
>>521520
>What's your story
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